


i've seen rock bottom, and it was love at very first sight

by deadratz



Series: our hearts need work [4]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Abigail Hobbs Lives, Beverly Katz Lives, Bisexual Will Graham, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Will Graham, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, Hannibal lies a lot, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Will Graham Knows, Will Graham tries to pretend it doesn't bother him, Will puts Hannibal in his place, Will tries to kill Hannibal and Hannibal sends killers to Will but its out of love okay?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:55:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 35,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26986291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadratz/pseuds/deadratz
Summary: Now in an actual relationship, Will Graham has many reasons to believe Hannibal loves him. That's why he can excuse the lying, the killing, and the cannibalism. Hannibal always surprises him, though, and Will Graham tends to hate most surprises.This is part 2 of a series, so please go read ‘let’s hate what our love makes us do’ first
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: our hearts need work [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1967875
Comments: 82
Kudos: 533





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2!! Thank you to everyone who read part one. 
> 
> Title is another frnkiero and the cellabration lyric. This one is from "Stitches"
> 
> Part 1 was from Hannibal's perspective, but this is from Will's (which is way easier for me to write).
> 
> Also all mistakes are my own.
> 
> Two non-canonical deaths in this fic, but no one listed in the character tags. Read with caution if that might bother you.

Will Graham _knows_ being in love with a serial killer is not a morally good thing to be. He also knows that being in love with a serial killer, knowing he’s a serial killer, and keeping it a secret from his superiors at his job with the literal FBI is highly illegal. He tells himself he does not entirely care, but that is not completely true. Each night he sleeps next to Hannibal, he wonders just how light a sleeper the man is, and if he could get enough of an upperhand to choke him long enough that he doesn’t wake up until it’s too late to even bother attempting to fight back. He also considers turning Hannibal in to Jack every time he wakes up in the middle of the night to an empty bed, goes back to sleep, and wakes up in the morning to a call from Jack about a body being found. 

Hannibal just says he doesn’t know what Will’s talking about every time that happens. Claims he was in bed with Will all night, and then gives him a kiss and wishes him a good day. Will knows Hannibal is a liar, and Hannibal knows Will knows, but it gives Will an excuse to lie without actually lying. He figures Hannibal does it purposefully, so if it ever comes down to it and Hannibal gets caught, they can both claim Will was never aware, and had no reason to believe Hannibal was the one committing these murders. It’s Hannibal’s own fucked up way of loving Will. 

He loves Will in other ways too, of course. He cooks for him, makes sure he’s sleeping well, helps him through all of the treatment for the encephalitis, takes care of the dogs when Will’s away on cases. Hannibal buys him everything he asks for, which isn’t much at all, and things he doesn’t ask for, which is a whole other story. He backs off when Will has had too much going on and just wants to go home and sleep, and tries to never push Will into anything he isn’t readily agreeable too. He’s extremely gentle during sex, and has even cried a few times, which always surprises Will because under so many different circumstances, they’re at each other’s throats for some reason or another. All of those things are how Hannibal shows his love. Will wouldn’t have it any other way. He feels like there’s no other way for them to love each other if they don’t try to kill each other every two days. 

In the first two days after their relationship became real, Hannibal had given Will space to deal with his feelings, even though Will was insistent that he wanted to be with Hannibal. Despite everything he said, he would still shy away from Hannibal’s touch, wouldn’t allow anything more than a few chaste kisses, and would sleep as far away from Hannibal as the bed would allow. Will knew it was hurting Hannibal, but he was almost scared if they got too close, he’d try to pull a knife on him again. Hannibal didn’t push Will’s boundaries.

When the MRI showed the inflammation in Will’s brain, confirming Hannibal’s suspicions, Hannibal takes even more time off work and they stay at Will’s house while he’s forced into bed rest, and other treatment. This made it easier on both Will and on the dogs. Hannibal made sure Will slept as much as he could so his body could recover, made sure he was taking all of his medication on time, and took care of the dogs, even though Will swore he could do it all himself. 

Will realized early on that he needed to just allow Hannibal to take care of him. He stopped pushing him away from doing it within a few days, after getting over the unfamiliarity of having someone so close and so content to be. 

Will can ignore the killing, he eats Hannibal’s cooking, knowing damn well what he’s being fed, and he can handle the lying, too, because he knows Hannibal loves him. Hannibal has trouble with things like honesty, and Will has trouble with things like trust and intimacy. They work around it. Still, only so much working around actually works, and Will fears that what they have is not sustainable. 

He can ignore the killing, cannibalism and lying, sure, but there are things Will cannot stand about Hannibal. The way he’s so particular about what Will eats at his house, and how he never keeps normal snacks in his pantry. Hannibal tells Will he’s more than welcome to eat whatever he wants while he’s alone, but in Hannibal’s house there’s no store bought, processed snack foods. Will thinks it’s just because Hannibal’s stomach can’t handle them and he doesn’t want to be faced with something stronger than himself. Will shows up drinking Monster energy one day and Hannibal takes one whiff and tells Will to finish it outside and then go brush his teeth. Ridiculous.

Then there’s the events Hannibal wants to take him to. He thought the opera was going to be a one time thing, but no. Hannibal has him fitted for tuxes, new suits, buys him shoes, cufflinks, a new watch, several red ties, even new underwear. Silk. Will had no idea how much Hannibal liked him in a red tie until he was presented with six of them. Will didn’t even own six ties before Hannibal gave him those. Will had enjoyed the opera well enough when he thought it was just to get Hannibal’s patient to back off, but when Hannibal suggested they start going to performances more often, Will realizes he needs to keep socializing with the Baltimore elite. He knows there’s no negotiating and he’s not excited. And all of this happens in the first few days of Will getting better from the encephalitis. 

And now that Will is better, he’s not as willing to be babied by Hannibal as he was when he was sick. One day when Hannibal calls him “boy,” it sets something off inside him, and Will grabs the first sharp object he finds and wields it in Hannibal’s direction, threatening to stab him if he doesn’t knock it off. He’s been treated like a kid by people around him for his whole adult life, but he’s not going to take it from the man he loves. Will was on the brink of breaking when his brain was on fire, but now he’s not the same unstable, fragile man everyone saw him as before.

Will also doesn’t enjoy that Hannibal is trying to change things about his own house. This is a tipping point for Will. They’ve been together for just over three months when Hannibal throws out Will’s 3-in-1 shampoo-conditioner-body wash without permission, and replaces it with three different bottles of some fancy shit that Will doesn’t even bother reading or using. Because of his inconsistent shower habits, when he finally notices, it’s several days later and his old stuff is long gone. He uses the dogs’ shampoo as a form of defiance against Hannibal. 

“I’m not doing this because I don’t want nice things, or to smell good for you. I’m doing this because you didn’t ask me first,” Will tells him when Hannibal arrives and smells him, asking why he smells like a mutt. 

“I’m not going to stand within five feet of you until you no longer smell like your dogs, Will,” Hannibal responds, picking up his coat, and car keys. “You can come over when you come to your senses.”

Hannibal leaves after that, despite having just arrived. Will sits on his bed after Hannibal leaves, and laughs at how ridiculous the whole situation was. He was looking forward to spending the night with Hannibal, so he fishes the bottles out of the trash, and showers again. He makes sure the dogs are set for the night, then he gets in his car and drives to Baltimore. 

It’s nearly eleven at night when he arrives at Hannibal’s house and parks in his usual spot in the driveway, and uses the key Hannibal gave him to let himself in. “I don’t smell like my dogs anymore!” he calls out. There’s no response, and Will realizes that none of the lights are on in the house. He knows Hannibal is never asleep by this time, so that’s not the case. He goes to Hannibal’s garage and sees his Bentley is parked there. He checks each room of the house, but Hannibal doesn’t show up. He even goes to the secret trapdoor that leads to Hannibal’s murder basement, opens it and calls down to see if he’s there. Nothing. Not being home, and not using his regular car can only mean one thing.

Will pulls out his phone and clicks on Hannibal’s contact. 

“Hello?”

“Where are you?” Will questions.

“I went home.”

“Well, you left again, then because I’m at your house. Where are you?” Will asks again, through gritted teeth. So maybe he can’t handle the lying as well as he thought. “Cut the shit, Hannibal.”

“I’m afraid you don’t actually want to know that information, Will. I can be home in about an hour.” Hannibal sounds tired, but Will knows it’s just a front to make the man less mad at him. 

“Yeah okay. We need to talk,” Will snaps. He hangs up the phone and goes to sit in Hannibal’s study, wishing he had a TV to pass the time, and take his mind off the fact that his boyfriend left his house and then went out murdering just because he used different shampoo than what was purchased for him. It was Hannibal’s fault that Will wouldn’t use what he bought him, and now Will was just paying more of a price for it. All Hannibal had to do was ask. 

He bides his time, and finally when Hannibal shows up exactly an hour later, carrying a duffle bag over his shoulder, and a cooler in his hand, he’s ready to rip his throat out with his teeth when he meets the man at the front door. 

“Am I going to be called to a scene in the morning?” Will seethes. “So help me, Hannibal, if I’m called to one of your scenes in the morning when I’m already pissed at you, I’m going to take photos of your goddamn basement and send them to Jack Crawford.”

“Don’t worry, Will. Everything’s going to be just fine,” Hannibal says. He puts his stuff down, and reaches out to cup Will’s face with one hand. Hannibal sniffs the air and smiles. “You smell better. Let me put this stuff away and then let’s go to bed.”

Will swats Hannibal’s hand away from his face. “I didn’t ask if everything would be fine, Hannibal. I asked if I’m going to have to get inside your head in the morning and pretend I don’t know anything”

“I guess we’ll just have to see in the morning what happens. Please,” Hannibal brings his hand back to Will’s face, the other hand grabbing his hip and pulling him closer. “As I said, allow me to put this away, and then let’s go to bed.”

Hannibal kisses Will softly, and Will doesn’t pull away, so Hannibal deepens the kiss. Will kisses him back for exactly three seconds before pulling away, and saying, “Enough. I know what you’re trying to do.”

“And what is that?” Hannibal asks, nosing the crook of Will’s neck, then pressing kisses in a line from Will’s jaw, down his throat.

“Stop.” Will’s voice is firm as he pushes him away. “Take care of your shit, and then we’re talking about this.”

“Very well.”

Hannibal takes his belongings down to his basement, and Will goes upstairs to peel off his clothes, leaving just his boxers (not silk) on, and climbs into his side of Hannibal’s bed. He’s sitting up against the headboard with the blankets covering him from the hips down, and picks up the book he keeps on the nightstand, opening it to his marked page. He reads a few pages while Hannibal takes care of business.

Hannibal comes upstairs and pulls the book out of Will’s hands and climbs over him, trying for a kiss, yet again. 

“I’m serious, Hannibal. Talking first. Actually no, go shower first.” 

“You don’t want to join me?” Hannibal asks, raising an eyebrow, and standing up to strip off his clothes right in front of Will.

“I’ve taken two showers today, so no thanks.” Will says, getting annoyed. “Stop trying to seduce me out of this conversation.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Hannibal turns around and goes into the bathroom. 

When Will hears the shower turn on, he grabs his book again and keeps reading. He finds himself rereading the same paragraph over and over again, never quite comprehending what he’s read. After the fourth time, he groans, and slams the book shut. He sets it back on the nightstand and lays down on the bed, defeated. 

Hannibal emerges from the bathroom, completely naked, rubbing his hair dry with a towel. Will looks away until the other man is in bed and under the covers. 

“Stay on your side of the bed until I say otherwise,” Will warns. He sits up against the headboard and looks at Hannibal expectantly.

“Okay,” Hannibal agrees. “Please, tell me what you’d like to discuss.” 

Will sits up straight and sits with his legs crisscrossed, facing Hannibal. 

“You have to know by now I’m not actually going to turn you in if you’re honest with me,” Will starts. He tries to stay calm. Conversations that get heated tend to turn violent, and he’s not trying to have knives drawn when Hannibal’s naked, and Will himself is nearly there. “I already know about your basement, and you’ve literally washed your plastic murder suits in my bathtub. I’ve watched you butcher a human leg and make dinner with it! I have more than enough to put you away if that’s what I wanted to do, Hannibal.” 

“You’d like to discuss my dishonesty.” It’s not a question. 

“Hannibal, I just want to know what’s going on with you. You told me that anything I asked for is mine, and I’m asking for this,” Will pleads. “If you’re being secretive to protect me, it’s too late for that. Our lives are too intertwined, and if you go down, I’m going down with you.”

“My love, what did I do to deserve you?” 

“Well, let's see. You made me kill a man so you could become my not-official-therapist and then instead of just asking me out like a normal person, you asked me to pretend to date you to get your patient to stop flirting with you,” Will reminds him. “And honestly, I’m not even sure if the man was actually into you or if it was just your ego talking. You couldn’t pick up on my own hints, but you picked up on someone you see for an hour a week? I still don’t believe it.”

“You’re very rude. I should eat you so I don’t have to fall victim to this harassment any longer,” Hannibal jokes. 

“You wouldn’t last a day without me,” Will says in response. It feels good to joke around, to let his anger subside, but he’s not done. “Tell me where you were tonight. I’m not too thrilled that you lied to me when I called you.” 

“I did not kill anyone tonight, but I will not tell you where I was. It is supposed to be a surprise,” Hannibal says. 

“What was in the bag and cooler then?” 

“Nothing,” Hannibal shrugs. “I had left them in the bushes just in case I needed an excuse about my whereabouts to you.”

“So whatever you were doing tonight is somehow worse than going out and killing someone?”

“Not worse, no. Just something I want to keep secret from you for a little while longer. It’s nothing bad, just a surprise.” 

“And if you hadn’t left my house earlier, would you have still gone and done this?”

Hannibal shakes his head, “The plan was not set in stone, it was all based on availability. When my schedule cleared up, I was able to attend.” 

“You’re not cheating on me, are you?” Will asks. He’s only half joking.

“I would never, in a million years, be unfaithful to you in that way, Will.” Hannibal reaches out to touch Will, but seems to remember what Will told him and drops his hand on the bed in the space between them.

“I believe you, but I don’t believe that there was some sort of event that you can’t tell me about. If there’s a body in the morning, I’m leaving you. If there’s not, I’ll forgive you for lying tonight and wait until you’re ready to tell me,” Will says, laying down on his side of the bed, and turning off the lamp on the bedside table next to him. “I’m going to sleep over here on my side, and you’re sleeping over there on yours.”

“Am I in the dog house, Will?” 

“Goodnight, Hannibal,” Will says, ignoring the question and turning away from Hannibal.

Will wakes up to the sound of his phone ringing. As he comes to, he realizes he’s wrapped around Hannibal’s body, head on the man’s bare chest. He’s about to yell at Hannibal, when he realizes it was his own sleeping body that betrayed him and rolled over onto the other side of the mattress. 

“Are you going to answer that?” Hannibal grumbles. 

“If I do, are you going to be leaving this house in a body bag?” Will says into Hannibal’s chest.

“I already told you I didn’t kill anyone last night. Either answer it or turn off your phone and stay in bed with me. It’s Saturday.”

Will sits up and finds his phone in the pocket of the pants he’d taken off last night and manages to answer the call right before the last ring.

“Hello?” 

“Will, it’s Jack. Did I wake you?” Jack sounds too awake for this early on a Saturday. Whatever Hannibal left for him to find must be a good one.

“Yeah, but it’s fine. What’s going on?” Will says, trying to wake up more. 

“A few bodies have turned up in a river. You think you could come check it out?”

“Is that a question I can say no to?”

“No.”

Will flops back down onto the bed, phone still pressed to his ear. He glares at Hannibal who looks at him curiously. Will wants to punch the look off the man’s face.

“Okay. Fine. Send me the address. You know, I’d like one Saturday where I’m not showing up to crime scenes to look at bodies. I had plans for today.”

“You’re not the only one. I’ll text you the address, then let me know your ETA. Sooner rather than later, I hope.”

Jack hangs up and Will throws his phone onto the bedside table. 

“Bodies in a river.” Will says. He tries to stay calm. That’s not Hannibal’s preferred method of disposal, he reminds himself. 

“I’m telling you it’s not me.”

Will’s getting up and walking to Hannibal’s closet where he keeps clothes for days like this when he has to go out somewhere without proper planning. Makes things easier than running home to put on clothes suitable for being in the field. When he’s dressed, and Hannibal is still in bed under the covers, he checks his phone again to see the address. He let’s Jack know he can be there in an hour, even though it won’t actually take that long.

“Come with me. We can say I fell asleep on your couch after too much to drink last night, and they won’t think twice. They all know we hang out,” Will suggests. He’s standing in the bathroom doorway now, and his words are hardly understandable with the toothbrush in his mouth, but he knows Hannibal’s used to that by now.

Hannibal’s face twists into something Will can’t quite read. 

“What?” Will asks. 

“Then they will ask why you didn’t come to my house until late last night. I’m really not supposed to be telling you this, and I was not going to, but I was out with Jack Crawford, Miss Katz, Mr. Zeller, and Mr Price, last night.”

Will’s mouth drops open. “No you weren’t.” 

Hannibal nods slowly. 

“Why?” Will doesn’t know if he should be mad or confused. Maybe both.

“I will be keeping that a secret.” 

“You were out with the only people I consider close enough to be friends, and you can’t tell me why?” Will goes back into the bathroom to spit and rinse his mouth, and comes out again. Hannibal’s gotten up and is in the closet looking for something to wear. 

“All in due time, my love,” Hannibal promises. 

“Whatever. Are you coming with me, or not? We’ll come up with a different lie if anyone asks.” At this point, Will doesn’t really care much about who knows they’re together, but Hannibal seems to think it may come in handy one day. Will’s worried Hannibal has some sort of plan he’s unaware of, but then Will’s never aware of any of Hannibal’s plans. 

“Yes. I know Jack likes my input. In fact, he might even start thinking I can empathize with killers much like you can.”

“It’s a bit different when you’re a killer, too, Hannibal,” Will laughs. “In fact, it’s very different every time that killer is actually you. You have to be more careful.”

“I’m plenty careful.” Hannibal’s putting on a three-piece red plaid suit, and Will’s shaking his head. “Do we have time for breakfast?”

“We don’t. Your suits take too long to put on. Meet me in the car.”

Will leaves Hannibal in his bedroom, and heads down the stairs. He walks past the kitchen and sees Hannibal left the bag and cooler on his kitchen counter. Curiosity gets the best of him, and he walks into the kitchen and opens the cooler. Nothing, not even a drop of water inside. He unzips the bag, looking over his shoulder to make sure Hannibal hasn’t come down the stairs yet, and sees it’s only filled with neatly folded clothes. It was the overnight bag he had intended to bring to Will’s the night before. So maybe Hannibal’s telling the truth, but it still doesn’t make sense that he was out with _Will’s_ friends.

“This isn’t the car.”

Will jumps at the voice behind him. He pretends he wasn’t investigating and turns to look at Hannibal, the bag behind him on the counter still open. 

“I promise I will tell you everything when I can,” Hannibal says, stepping forward. Will won’t look at him, but Hannibal keeps his eyes focused on Will’s face. “Can you trust me for the moment?”

Will nods, though he really doesn’t want to. 

Even though they really don’t have time, Hannibal insists on at least making Will scrambled eggs. 

“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, darling,” Hannibal says, as he’s setting a plate in front of Will. “And knowing you, I am willing to guess you did not eat dinner last night.”

“Whatever,” Will mumbles, shoveling the food in quickly. “We really do not have time.”

“Jack is the head of the Behavioral Science Unit. If he can’t come up with his own answers in the time it takes me to make eggs, and you eat them, then maybe he should pick a new profession,” Hannibal says, matter-of-factly. 

“I told him to come up with his own answers once, you know,” Will says around a mouthful. Hannibal looks at him in a way that says ‘please go on,’ so Will swallows, and says, “Everyone around us fled the scene. Bev said it was like hearing her mom say ‘fuck’ for the first time.” 

Hannibal hums in response. He eats his own eggs, and when he’s finished, and blotting his mouth with a napkin, he finally speaks. “You stood up to Jack Crawford during that case and came out alive, but you refuse to tell him no when he wants to drag you out of my arms at nine in the morning on a Saturday.”

“Do you want to argue? Are you trying to provoke me right now, Doctor Lecter?” Will knows the formal name annoys Hannibal, but it’s not enough to ever get him in trouble. Each time, Hannibal scolds him for it, Will bats his eyelashes, and Hannibal stops being mad. Will knows he has the man wrapped around his finger. 

“No. We must go before Jack Crawford calls you again.” Hannibal grabs his coat and Will’s keys from Will’s coat pocket by the door, and unlocks Will’s car from where he’s standing at the front door. 

Will puts both of their plates in the sink to be dealt with later, and puts on his coat, before meeting Hannibal in the car. 

They arrive at the scene and see the FBIs SUVs, as well as police cruisers, and other agents’ personal cars blocking off the bridge above the river.

“Doctor Lecter, what a surprise!” Jack calls out when both men get out of Will’s car. Jack’s approaching them, and when he reaches them he raises an eyebrow at both of them, the question going unasked.

“Hannibal was already on his way to my house when you called. We were going to go fishing today,” Will lies. He ignores the look Hannibal gives him, and Jack doesn’t seem to see it. 

“Well, how’s this for fishing? Two men were wading through the river down below, and up came a body. Then three more. We think there might be more,” Jack briefs them on the situation, bringing them to the bodies laid out in open body bags on the road. Will looks down to the river and sees more agents in the water poking around for anyone else.

Will bends down next to the first body, and looks at the skin. 

“Looks like they’ve been preserved for something,” Will observes. "Are they coated in resin?"

Beverly Katz comes up to them, standing across the body from them.“This guy’s partially sealed, rotting from the inside out. The other three appear to be embalmed. No idea how long they’ve been down there, but whatever this guy’s doing, he’s still trying to figure out.”

Hannibal’s next to him, examining the bodies. “Are they filled with silicone?”

“They’ve been injected with something. Why do you ask?” Beverly answers. 

“Injecting with silicone is a technique for making resin-coated fish models,” Will steps in.

“That is what I was going to say, thanks for interjecting,” Hannibal says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “But yes. It helps the body retain a lively shape in death,” Hannibal finishes.

Beverly looks between the two of them and Will can hear the gears turning in her head. Will gives her a look that he hopes says, ‘please don’t say a word, we’ll talk about this later,’ and apparently it works because she keeps her mouth shut. 

“So he’s making human models,” Wil decides.

“Why would he make human models, and throw them into the river? Doesn’t seem like good preservation to me,” Jack says.

“They’re imperfect,” Hannibal says, standing up.

Will nods, agreeing. “This isn’t his design. There’s going to be more bodies somewhere else. Probably far from here, somewhere completely unrelated. Find those, you’ll find the killer.”

Will stands up. “That’s all I’ve got for you, Jack. I can’t do much more here.”

“Go fishing then. We’ll call you if we find anything else.”

Hannibal and Will are walking away from the scene, and almost to the car, when Will hears feet running up behind them. He turns and sees Beverly jogging to catch up to them. Once she’s caught up, she falls into stride with Will. 

“I’m done here. Lunch?” 

Will turns and looks and Hannibal, and the older man nods minutely, a movement only for Will to pick up on.

“Sure,” Will says. 

“Good, there’s a diner down the road. I’ll meet you there?” Beverly gives them the directions and heads off to her car, parked on the other side of the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter is ending here because I wanted to get it out and I didn't feel like writing more tonight.
> 
> You'll recognize the crime scene from S2E1 Kaiseki. This time Will's around the actually consult in person. 
> 
> Hopefully you guys liked this. I promise the questions you have will definitely get answered eventually. Ask them anyways, though. Comment, leave kudos. I read every comment, and even if I don't respond, they all mean the world!


	2. Chapter 2

On the same street as the diner, Will stops for gas, and Hannibal tries to hand him his credit card through the open window, to which Will says, “You know I have a job right? Like you know I can pay for my own gas?”

And Hannibal replies, “Yes, I am aware of your employment. Take it.”

“No.” And Will turns around and goes to pay inside. With his own money. The bodies that turned up may not have been Hannibal’s doing, but Hannibal is not out of the woods yet. Will knows he’s up to no good. It had taken him a while the previous night to come upstairs after arriving. He had plenty of time to switch out duffel bags and coolers to give the illusion that there was nothing incriminating in his hands when he walked in the door. Will’s skeptical, and figures Hannibal just left the display somewhere that’s closed on weekends, resulting in it not being uncovered yet. 

Will walks down the drink aisle of the gas station, knowing he doesn’t need anything if they’re going to lunch in just a few minutes, but he still wants to annoy Hannibal by drinking something sickly sweet, and highly caffeinated in front of him. He picks a Monster, remembering the time Hannibal made him go brush his teeth after drinking one, and grins to himself. 

He’s paying, and walking out the door within a matter of minutes, and before he even gets back to the car, he’s cracking open the drink and taking a sip. Hannibal is yelling out the open car window, “You need to stop drinking those. They are terrible for your health, Will.”

“You just don’t like the smell. Besides, my car, my rules. You know that,” Will shrugs, giving Hannibal a wink. 

Hannibal settles back into his seat and lets out a huff of air. Will knows the man is considering getting out and calling a cab, and it gives Will a great feeling to know he’s making things difficult for him. Something as simple as an energy drink sets Hannibal on edge, and it gives Will the tiniest bit of satisfaction that Hannibal is feeling an ounce of what Will feels every time Hannibal lies to him.

“Are you aware that you are acting like a child?” Hannibal asks once Will is back in the driver’s seat and pulling out of the gas station. 

“You’re one to talk,” Will retorts.

“What do you want from me? I am not lying about who I was with last night, and you can ask Ms. Katz yourself. I did not kill anyone last night, Will.” 

“We’ll see,” Will shrugs, pulling into the diner. Beverly is already there, and leaning against the side of her car, waiting for them. 

Will parks next to her and is about to get out when Hannibal grabs his hand to stop him. “No more lying after this surprise. I promise.”

“I’ll believe it when it happens,” Will says, pulling his hand out of Hannibal’s and getting out of the car. He looks at Beverly, “How did you get Jack to let you go? Don’t they need you in the lab?”

“They’re not even done fishing bodies out of the river yet. Besides, I told him I have to get to the bank before it closes for the weekend.” Beverly smiles. Hannibal’s out of the car, and walking a few feet behind Will and Beverly. 

“You lied to Jack?” 

Beverly nods. “I think he’ll let it slide just this once. It’s Saturday. Zeller and Price can handle whatever Jack needs from us.”

“Apparently I’m not supposed to know this, but was Hannibal with you guys last night?” Will asks, voice low. 

“You told him?” Beverly yells, turning to look at Hannibal, betrayal written across her face. 

“He thought I was cheating on him,” Hannibal says as a way of explanation. Will glares at Hannibal. “All he is aware of is the company I was with last night, he does not know why.”

“So you guys are together then? I just made forty bucks,” Beverly grins. Will opens the door to the restaurant and holds it for both Beverly and Hannibal.

“No you didn’t because you’re not telling anyone,” Will warns. The hostess is standing in front of them at the podium, watching the conversation with an attempt to mask her curiosity. Will looks at her with a big smile, “Table for three, please.”

“Oh, come on it’s just Brian and Jimmy,” Beverly pushes, sliding into one side of the booth. Hannibal and Will squeeze into next to each other across from her. 

“Those are the ones I’m most worried about. It’s bad enough they tease me about how much Hannibal and I hang out, if they knew anything else we’d never hear the end of it. This is for your sanity, too, Bev.”

Hannibal puts an arm behind Will’s shoulders casually, and Will tenses and grits his teeth, not wanting to say anything about it in front of Beverly. Hannibal leans into Will’s ear, and speaks so low Will can barely hear him, “You can’t be mad at me forever. You know I was being truthful now.” 

Will glares at him, but relaxes in the same moment.

Beverly chooses to ignore it, and Will finds himself grateful. Instead, she asks, “How long, then?”

“Three months,” Hannibal responds. 

“Well, shit. And no one knows?”

“Just Alana and a few of my friends,” Hannibal says. 

“Abigail doesn’t know? You’re basically her fathers. How do you get that past her?” 

“We’ve been waiting for the right time to tell her. She’s still dealing with a lot. Especially after Jack forced her into seeing Nicholas Boyle’s body. We don’t need her thinking about us when she’s in this state of recovery. Too much change would not be a good thing for her,” Hannibal says. “Plus, Will and I are very good at keeping it professional.”

“The longer you wait, she’s just gonna feel like you guys don’t trust her,” Beverly says. She watches Will’s face. “You don’t, do you?” 

“It’s not that, really. It’s more so that she might accidentally let something slip to the wrong person. Freddie Lounds frequents her room at Port Haven quite often.”

“I thought she called off the book?”

“When does something like that ever stop Freddie Lounds from nosing around?” Will says. 

Their conversation is interrupted by the waitresses coming by to take their drink orders. Will and Beverly both order sodas, and Hannibal orders coffee. When she leaves again, Beverly looks at the two men. 

“You know, if you don’t want anyone to know, then maybe you shouldn’t show up to a crime scene together this early on a weekend. And if you do, don’t bicker like an old married couple when you get there,” Beverly’s tone is lighthearted, but Hannibal’s body language tells Will that he finds the comment rude. Will gives Hannibal’s thigh a light squeeze, a gesture that tells him to calm down, there’s no real threat present. 

The waitress sets their drinks down, and asks if they’re ready to order. Will and Beverly both order burgers and fries. 

“Nothing for me, thank you,” Hannibal says, and then sips his coffee.

“Are you sure?” Will asks. He knows Hannibal’s sure. He knew Hannibal wouldn’t eat the second Beverly suggested the diner. He still has to ask.

Hannibal nods, and the waitress turns and walks away to give their orders to the kitchen.

“So are you going to tell me everything, or what?” Beverly asks, sipping her drink through a straw. 

“How do you mean?” Will asks.

“How did you get together? You said three months? That’s right before you took time off for the encephalitis, right?”

Will nods. “Yeah well, I guess we became official the day Hannibal was attacked in his office by Tobias Budge. Uh, if it comes up to Alana or Hannibal’s friends, it was several weeks before that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hannibal why don’t you explain it? It was your idea to do it that way instead of just asking me out, after all.”

“Very well. I asked Will to pose as my significant other because a patient of mine was making advances towards me and-”

“Which I still think is a lie,” Will cuts him off.

Hannibal ignores him, “and we went to the opera together, and it became necessary for us to pose in front of my guests at a dinner party, who had also attended the opera that first night. Then,” Hannibal looks at Will, as if he knows he shouldn’t say anything, but that he doesn’t really care. “Will kissed Alana, panicked, and told her it was a mistake because he was seeing me. The next day, after the incident in my office, we confessed our true feelings for each other.”

“Hold on. You kissed Alana Bloom?”

“I was unstable. Like, my brain was on fire, unstable.” 

Beverly nods like it all makes sense, and doesn’t push it. “Well, be more careful if you don’t want other people finding out. Hannibal, it looks suspicious when you leave somewhere because of a phone call, and then show up the next morning in Will’s car.”

“Jack bought our fishing story.”

“Jack is the straightest man I know, he’s just going to assume you guys are really good pals. Jimmy and Brian on the other hand,” Beverly smiles wide. “They might pick up on it.”

“Whatever,” Will says. The waitress is putting their food down on the table, thus shutting down the conversation. She leaves the bill for when they’re ready, and then leaves them alone. 

“I will get that,” Hannibal says, putting more than enough cash down on the edge of the table next to the check.

“You didn’t even get anything besides coffee,” Beverly protests.

“Bev, he’s loaded. Just let him take care of it, he’ll pout all day if he can’t spend any money.”

“How loaded are we talking, anyways? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Will knows Hannibal minds. Will had to beg Hannibal for days to tell him where all his money comes from, but that doesn’t mean he can’t tell Beverly himself. “He’s a count. Has a literal castle in Lithuania. Plus he charges an arm and a leg per therapy session. The suit he’s wearing probably costs more than my house,” Will says between bites.

“That’s not true. Your car is a more accurate comparison to the price of my ensemble today,” Hannibal says, mouth quirking up in an almost smile. 

After lunch, Will says goodbye to Beverly, with a promise to see her Monday, and Hannibal hangs back to have a private conversation with her, once Will’s in the car. Whatever’s going on, Will is more than confused, and almost weirded out. He wants to keep his friends on one side of his life, and Hannibal on the other, with the exception of everyone working cases together on occasion, but now his two worlds are colliding. It’s suspicious.

\--

That night, they’re laying in Will’s bed, dogs surrounding them on all sides, facing each other on their sides. Will’s anger over the last 24 hours has subsided into nothing, and now he’s just glad to be having a nice moment with Hannibal. 

Hannibal reaches forward and pushes Will’s hair out of his face.

“You want to say something, but you don’t want to upset me,” Will whispers. “Whatever it is, I’m tired of fighting.”

“I don’t like being dishonest, or secretive, but it has to be this way for a lot of things,” Hannibal says. “If you know too much, you’d worry about me more than you already do.”

“We have a good thing going. I don’t want you to get caught, and I don’t like the idea that it’ll be a surprise because you won’t tell me when you’re about to go do something,” Will sighs. “Also don’t like when you leave me alone in bed at night without telling me.”

“If you would prefer I wake you and tell you, then I will.”

Will nods, but doesn’t say anything. 

“There is something I’d like to talk to you about,” Hannibal whispers. He grabs one of Will’s hands and holds it in his own. Will just waits for him to continue. He knows this isn’t an easy conversation if Hannibal isn’t coming right out with it. “I have devised a plan to put the Ripper to rest.”

Will’s eyes go wide, and he sits up abruptly in the bed, earning him annoyed looks from the dogs. “What do you mean?” Will doesn’t like the sound of this.

“The Chesapeake Ripper’s story needs to come to an end if we wish to be happy. I don’t want to get into specifics of the plan now, but I need to ask something of you before it’s carried out,” Hannibal says, softly. “If things were to go awry, which is not likely, but” he adds quickly when Will opens his mouth to comment. “I need to know if you’d be willing to run away with me. You don’t need to decide right this second, and this plan will not be carried out until you do, but I would like for you to consider it.”

“Hannibal,” Will whispers, leaning down to kiss him softly. “You know I would.”

“Will, you know that means leaving everything and everyone, and never coming back, right?”

Will nods slowly. “You said it’s not likely to happen, though right? If it does, then it’s because of a plan you made for us. I wouldn’t let your efforts go to waste like that.”

“Have I ever told you how magnificent you are?” 

Will kisses him again, before laying back down on his side. “Maybe a few times.”

Hannibal laughs, and Will thinks it’s the best sound in the world. Hannibal normally so serious, so poised, so calm and collected, doesn’t let himself lose any sort of control often. So when he laughs, it’s music to Will’s ears every single time. 

“I believe I should also tell you that we are attending the opera on Saturday,” Hannibal says quickly. Will doesn’t like going to the opera, and Hannibal knows that. 

“Like a week from today?” Will asks. 

Hannibal nods. Will thinks for a second. That’s his birthday. He wonders if Hannibal knows, if he’s ever even told him. He doesn’t think he has because there’s no way Hannibal would force him into the opera on his birthday. 

“Oh. Okay,” Will says. He doesn’t say anything about the date. It’s not worth seeing Hannibal sad, and he’d feel guilty if Hannibal tried to change plans for him, so he keeps his mouth shut. 

They fall asleep facing each other, unable to move any closer because Winston has wedged his way between the two of them. Will wonders how Hannibal feels about the dogs being in bed with them, covering them both in hair, slobbering on their clothes and faces. Hannibal pretends he doesn’t like the dogs, but Will always catches Hannibal feeding them sausages _(“Those better not be human, Hannibal,” he had said. “Of course not, Will. Wouldn’t want them getting a taste for it and then eating me, too,” Hannibal had responded. Will still isn’t sure if he was telling the truth or not.)_ , or petting them softly with one hand, while holding a book in the other. Will’s been in the other room while Hannibal’s cooked in the kitchen, surrounded by dogs. He swears he hears Hannibal talking to the pack like they’re people. Small things like that make Will fall in love with Hannibal even more every time. 

Will wakes up in the middle of the night, and sees Hannibal isn’t in bed with him. He’s about to grab his cell phone and call him screaming when he hears the toilet flush and the bathroom door open. 

“I was about to kill you,” Will mumbles, half asleep, as Hannibal settles back down on the mattress. 

“I know, love,” Hannibal whispers, kissing Will’s soft curls. The dogs are no longer in the bed, having gotten too hot and moved to the floor, so Hannibal lays down, pressed against Will’s back, and holds him tight as they fall back asleep. 

The next day Hannibal stays until after dinner, and then goes home. They barely see each other during the weeks, unless one of them decides to make the trip after work. Once in a while Hannibal will spend the night in Wolf Trap before waking up in the early morning to get back to Baltimore in time for his first appointment of the day. This week, though, Will barely even hears from Hannibal until Thursday evening. And that’s only because Jack Crawford had met Will in his classroom that morning with important news.

“We found Miriam Lass last night.”

“Did you now?” Will asks, trying to stay casual and calm, pushing down the urge to call Hannibal right at that moment. 

“Remember the Ripper case from a few weeks ago? We found bark that led us to a cabin where Miriam Lass was found in a pit in the ground. Ripper’s getting sloppy.”

“Well, that’s good for us. She have any idea who it is?” Will asks. He busies himself with shuffling papers around on his desk, avoiding looking at Jack. 

“She’s traumatized. Didn’t have much to say at all. We’re going to see if Dr. Lecter can help recover some of her memories. I know he’s capable of that kind of therapy.”

Will nods. He can feel the anxiety building in his chest. He wants Jack to leave the room so he can punch something. He wants to call Hannibal and warn him. “When are you going to do that?”

“Depending on Doctor Lecter’s availability, probably not until sometime next week. As important as it is to catch the Ripper, there’s no way I’d feel okay pushing Miriam into that so fast after being pulled out of a hole in the ground.”

Will feels himself relaxing. There’s time. 

“You have classes soon?”

Will nods. 

“Alright, I’ll see you later.”

Jack leaves the room, and Will falls into his chair, elbows on his desk, and face in his hands. There’s no way Hannibal’s letting evidence turn up now, not when he’s trying to stop the Ripper’s story. He wants to call Hannibal, warn him, yell at him, maybe even just cry. He doesn’t. 

Will goes through all of his lectures on autopilot, not paying attention to one class ending, and another beginning. It’s a wonder he actually gets through it all. After the last lecture of the day, he practically runs to his car, and speeds to Baltimore. He checks the clock in his car, and knows Hannibal’s likely to still be at his office. 

Upon arriving, he spots the Bentley, confirming Hannibal is still there, and gets out of his car, not paying attention as he runs up the stairs to the door. He pushes through it and walks through the waiting room, and is about to push open the door to the office, when he stops, realizing he might be on the verge of barging into someone’s appointment.

Will pulls out his phone and texts.

_ do you have an appointment right now? _

The response is almost instant.

_ No, I do not. Why?  _

Will pushes through the door, and Hannibal looks up from his phone in surprise.

“Will,” he breathes.

“They found Miriam Lass.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ones about 800 words shorter than I was planning, but I think it ends fine. Lmk if you see any real bad mistakes please. Also, I'm not set on a posting schedule yet, and I'm really just putting stuff out as I write it. Please leave comments and kudos. Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my favorite chapter I've ever written, but I'm hoping it lives up to expectations. A little bit of writer's block, because I needed these scenes, but I'm so focused on thinking about what's coming up that it was hard for me to get these done! Enjoy.

“Will, breathe for me, please,” Hannibal says, walking towards Will. Will realizes then that his breathing is erratic, and his hands are trembling. How Hannibal is remaining so calm is beyond him.

“Breathe? You want me to bring when the only person alive that knows who you are besides me, and Abigail, has just been found? Are you insane, Hannibal?” 

“It’s all part of the plan, my love,” Hannibal says. He cups Will’s cheeks in both hands. “I should have warned you this would be happening soon.” 

“I-,” Will starts. He shakes his head. “Fuck, Hannibal. I’ve been freaking out about this all day. What if she remembers it was you?”

“She won’t.” Hannibal’s voice is firm, and almost reassuring. He’s holding Will’s face between his hands and it’s the only thing keeping Will from lashing out. From yelling and screaming that he’s being reckless, taking too many risks. “I have taken all precautions necessary to ensure that will not happen.” 

Will moves closer and wraps his arms around Hannibal’s waist, holding him tight, squeezing. Hannibal removes his hands from Will’s face and returns the embrace.

“I… I don’t want you to tell me your plan. I’d rather not know because I will just worry more. Just tell me if something goes wrong,” Will pleads, burying his face in Hannibal’s chest. “Promise me you’re being careful.”

“I’m always careful, Will. If you ever want specifics, I will tell you anything you wish to know.” 

Will shakes his head. He doesn't want to know. Not yet. 

“I’m just about done here for the night if you want to come over for dinner,” Hannibal offers. He doesn’t wait for Will to agree, because Will never turns down the offer. “Allow me twenty minutes to finish up.” 

Will sits down in one of the armchairs and it reminds him of all the conversations they used to have in this office. Following Will’s recovery, they decided to stop meeting for their regular sessions. Jack questioned it when Will had told him, but Will simply stated that their relationship was better as friends than it was doctor-patient. Will assured him that he wasn’t going to go crazy again with the lack of proper therapy. Not that it was proper therapy to begin with, really.

Will watches Hannibal as he finishes up his notes from his last session, coming up with a plan for the patient’s progress to be discussed at their next session. Will can’t help but think there won’t even be a next session with that patient if Hannibal is apprehended within the next week. He pushes those thoughts down before he can entertain them for very long. If Hannibal says he’s being careful, then Will is going to choose to believe him.

At the end of the twenty minutes, Hannibal stands up and puts on his suit jacket, which had been draped over the back of his chair. Will notices that Hannibal’s bought an entirely new desk since the day he killed Tobias. His old one easily could’ve been cleaned, but Hannibal never passes up a chance to buy something new. Will looks down and sees there’s a new rug, too. He understands that one more than the desk. Tobias’ body bled out in the old one, and it was probably soaked completely from the pool of blood that gathered on it. That stain would never come out, and that’s probably not a great thing to have in an office where people are already dealing with all sorts of trauma. 

“Will? Are you with me?” 

Hannibal’s voice pulls him out of his blood soaked thoughts. “Hm? I mean, yeah. Ready?”

“What’s on your mind?” Hannibal asks. 

“I was just thinking about the rug that Tobias bled out on,” Will shrugs. “Not really a big deal. I saw the new one and my mind wandered.”

“You let your mind wander when other things are bothering you,” Hannibal says. 

“Just because I’m sitting in this chair, doesn’t mean you get to therapize me.” 

“I wasn’t trying to. I am merely reminding you of your habits and offering you a chance to come to me if something’s bothering you.” 

Hannibal is standing in front of Will, offering a hand to pull him up. Will takes it and lets Hannibal help him to stand. 

“There is something I want to discuss, actually.” 

Hannibal looks at him with his undivided attention, “Please.”

“I’ve been thinking about what Beverly said. About Abigail thinking we don’t trust her if we wait any longer. I think we should tell her we’re together,” Will says, quietly. “If you think it would be okay.”

“If you’re comfortable with her knowing, then I’ll think about it. I am serious when I say too much change would not be good for her,” Hannibal tells him. “I may run it by Alana. She is her doctor.”

“That’s understandable.” 

They start walking to their cars, hand in hand. Hannibal walks Will to his, and lets go of his hand when they reach it. “You’re coming straight to my house, yes?”

“Why don’t you come spend the night at mine? I have plenty of food in my kitchen, I’m sure you can make something. I haven’t been home to feed or let the dogs out since this morning.”

“If I do, I’ll be leaving in the middle of the night for a few things.” Hannibal’s voice is cautious. Will understands what he means. 

“As long as you wake me up before you go and you come back to me after.”

“I always come back,” Hannibal says. “For the sake of privacy, I would prefer we continue this conversation at your house instead of on the street.” 

“I’m assuming you’re running home first?” Will asks. Hannibal nods. “Okay, I’ll see you soon.”

They part ways and Will decides to just call Alana himself because he knows Hannibal will put it off for as long as he can. 

“Hello?” Alana answers through Will’s car speakers.

“Hey, it’s Will,” Will says. “Hannibal and I were talking about telling Abigail about our relationship. Hannibal said he wanted to run it by you first, but knowing him… Anyways I figured I’d call you myself.”

“I had already told Hannibal that you guys can tell her. He’s the one worried about too much change, but it’s not like she doesn’t already suspect,” Alana says. Will is very surprised by that. Hannibal’s been saying since the day they got together it wouldn’t be a good idea to tell Abigail because Alana said it wasn’t.

“Of course she suspects. Beverly grilled us on Saturday when we showed up to a crime scene together. I’m surprised the entire BAU hasn’t said something to us yet.”

Alana laughs, “Beverly is very observant… the rest of them, not as much as they should be. But, yes I believe that it should be fine if you tell Abigail. Freddie Lounds is no longer allowed in the building, by the way. There’s no chance of Abigail letting it slip. I know that’s something you were worried about.”

“What did Freddie do to get banned?” Will asks. 

“Abigail was becoming uncomfortable with how much she was being asked about you and your mental stability. Abigail put her foot down, and we said Freddie can no longer visit her.”

“Well, that’s good. Hey, I’d love to keep talking, but I’m driving and that’s all I really needed to ask about. I might ask Hannibal if he wants to visit Abigail on Sunday.”

There’s a pause before Alana answers, “Okay, that should work fine. I’ll talk to you later, Will.”

“Bye.” 

Will clicks the button on his steering wheel to end the call. Alana pausing before answering him was suspicious, and Will has no idea why she would. He wonders if it has something to do with Miriam Lass, and he finds himself spiraling into thoughts that the FBI knows about Hannibal, and that they’re just waiting to send in a SWAT team at the right moment. He wonders if Hannibal has already been apprehended in the short time they’ve been apart. It takes everything in Will not to pull off at the nearest exit and turn around to make sure everything’s fine. He considers calling, but he had already gone to Hannibal in a panic today, and twice in such a short period of time would have Hannibal worrying about Will being in a state of paranoia. He might even call off the entire plan if he knows how it’s affecting Will.

Will grips the steering wheel tight, and speeds the rest of the way to Wolf Trap. He lets the dogs out to run around while he sits on the porch, waiting for Hannibal to drive up. As he watches the dogs play, he feels a pang of guilt at the fact that he was so quick to agree to running away with Hannibal if the chance arises. The dogs were all he had for a long time, the only family, and friends he had, and he didn’t even think twice before agreeing to leaving them behind. As if reading Will’s mind, Winston comes up and sits next to him, resting his head on Will’s knee. He scratches between Winston’s ears absentmindedly and watches as Hannibal’s car comes into view. 

Hannibal gets out and stops to pet each dog that runs up to him. Winston stays put at Will’s side.

“I called Alana,” Will calls out. “She said she’s already given you the green light. Why would you lie about that?”

“I didn’t think you’d call her,” Hannibal shrugs. He’s walking up the steps of Will’s porch, and wiping his hands on his pants. 

“That’s not an answer,” Will says. At Hannibal’s look, he drops it, and changes the subject. “Who are you killing tonight?”

“Nobody. No killing, more like…” Hannibal pauses, thinking. “What’s the opposite of burglary?” 

Will looks up at him from his chair and studies Hannibal’s face to see if he’s joking. It doesn’t appear that he is. 

“Okay you’ve got me curious now.” Will stands up and calls the dogs in. He holds the door for all of them, and then ushers Hannibal into the house. “What do you mean by ‘opposite of burglary?’”

“There is someone who fits the Ripper profile nearly as well as I do. I will be setting up equipment in his house tonight while he is away on business until Saturday afternoon,” Hannibal says, walking towards the kitchen to start dinner. Will follows closely behind.

“And then what?”

“When he returns home, I will be waiting. I will subdue him, and then Saturday night after we return home from the opera, I will be leaving a display, and there’ll be the missing body parts in his home, as well.”

“And how is he going to become a suspect?”

“Ah, I’d like to leave a little bit of mystery for you. All in good time,” Hannibal smiles. He’s rolling up his sleeves and washing his hands, pulling one of his aprons from the cupboard. Will can’t remember when Hannibal left aprons here, or when he got the knife block Hannibal’s currently taking a knife out of. “Jack Crawford believes the Ripper is leaving damning evidence, well, I’ll be certain to leave more than enough, but I won’t be the one damned.” 

“I told Alana we’ll be visiting Abigail on Sunday. Will this interfere?”

Hannibal shakes his head, setting to work on chopping vegetables for dinner. “Sunday should be just fine to visit Abigail.” 

Hannibal goes back to cooking, and Will watches him move around the kitchen like a dancer performing. Every step, every movement looks perfectly planned, and is an exhibit of pure grace. He loves watching Hannibal cook, and so do the dogs. Will keeps telling them to back off, but Hannibal keeps slipping them pieces of sausage from his pocket, so they keep coming back. Will prays to whatever gods exist that Hannibal’s plan works out so he can keep having nights like these, his family all together, as it should be.

After dinner, Hannibal plays Will’s piano, while Will sits in an armchair next to the fireplace watching him, a glass of whiskey in one hand, his other hand in the fur of whichever dog pushes their way into his space. Hannibal plays with his eyes closed, entranced by the music that comes from his fingertips. Will hates to interrupt him in this state, but he’s tired, and wants at least a few hours of sleep by Hannibal’s side before Hannibal has to go on his nighttime mission. 

Will throws back the rest of his glass, and stands up. He walks over to stand next to Hannibal at the piano, and lightly touches one shoulder. Hannibal’s fingers still, and he looks up at Will, who doesn’t even have to say anything before Hannibal is nodding and on his feet. 

Will feels like he hasn’t slept long at all before he’s being shaken awake. 

“Leaving?” Will mumbles into Hannibal’s chest.

“Yes.”

Will tightens the arms he has around Hannibal when the man tries to get up. “Promise you’ll come back safe and won’t get caught.”

“I promise. You’re the only person capable of catching me. Now let me go,” Hannibal laughs quietly. 

Will sighs and lets Hannibal get out of the bed. He turns on the lamp as he dresses and Will watches, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. 

Hannibal leans down and kisses Will’s forehead. “Go back to sleep, I’ll be home before you know it.”

Will smiles at Hannibal saying ‘home.’ He hopes that one day, if things go well between them, that maybe they can share one home together. Maybe Hannibal wants that, too. Hannibal is about to walk out the door to frame someone for his own murders, but all Will can feel is warmth and happiness when looking at him. 

Hannibal is almost to the front door, when Will says, “I love you.” 

He’s never said it to Hannibal before now, and Hannibal stills, turns slowly and looks at Will as if he misheard. Their initial conversations when their relationship became authentic mentioned love, but beyond that, Will hasn’t said much on the subject. Hannibal calls him ‘my love,’ and ‘beloved,’ and has even said the three words to Will, but Will hasn’t been as forthcoming about his feelings. 

If Hannibal responds, Will doesn’t know because he’s already closing his eyes and falling back asleep. 

_ Will’s sitting on his porch waiting for Hannibal to show up when a car comes down his drive and stops next to his house. It’s not Hannibal’s Bentley, and it’s not Hannibal who gets out of the driver’s seat. Jack Crawford is slowly making his way to Will’s front steps, and Will watches him, not asking, because he knows Jack will still end up telling. Jack looks like he has great news, but at the same time he appears like he’s sad to be sharing it.  _

_ Finally, when Jack opens his mouth, Will’s heart drops through his stomach when he hears the words. _

_ “We’ve caught the Chesapeake Ripper.” _

_ Will shakes his head. It can’t be Hannibal. Hannibal had a plan, he’s on his way to see Will now. But he’s late, and here’s Jack Crawford instead, announcing the news with a hint of pain to the words, and Will knows. _

_ “W-who is it?” Will asks, anyways.  _

_ “I think you know, Will. I think you’ve known for a long time.” _

_ Will shakes his head frantically, “No. I don’t know.” Tears are flowing from his eyes, down his cheeks, and Will can’t make them stop. Hannibal’s been caught. Their life together has been taken away.  _

_ “Will Graham, you’re under arrest for aiding the Chesapeake Ripper. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law…” Will isn’t listening, though. His hands are shaking, his heart is racing. Jack has him down on the ground on his stomach, Will thrashing to avoid the cuffs trying to encircle his wrists. _

_ “Will?” Comes a voice that isn’t Jack’s, or his own.  _

_ The side of Will’s face is pressed to the wooden planks of his deck, hands on his shoulders. “Hannibal?” He calls out. _

_ “Will!” Hannibal’s voice is coming closer, Jack’s hands are shaking his shoulders now. _

Will’s eyes snap open. The hands on his shoulders aren’t Jack’s, but Hannibal’s. The wood under his cheek is his pillow. He’s still shaking when he rolls over on his back and looks up to meet Hannibal’s concerned eyes.

“You’re having nightmares?” Hannibal asks, slipping into bed and pulling Will close. 

“Only when I’m alone,” Will says, as if it’ll make Hannibal’s concern go away. “I’m fine.”

“Would you like to tell me about it?”

Will shakes his head. “No.”

“You were calling out my name. I’m glad I got home when I did to wake you,” Hannibal says. He’s moving his fingers in soothing circles on Will’s back. Will sighs and tries to melt into Hannibal’s chest. He knows Hannibal’s going to try to get him to talk about the nightmare, in the way Hannibal is always able to get him talking, but he doesn’t want Hannibal to know he’s the reason for this one. 

“What time is it?” Will yawns.

“Just after 4. Go back to sleep, love. I’ll be here when you wake again.”

Will doesn’t ask how things went tonight, he doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t ask whose house Hannibal was at, or what he left there. He doesn’t ask anything because he really does not want to know. 

Well, he keeps telling himself he doesn’t want to know. Really, it’s killing him now. The possibility of Hannibal getting caught for this has him set on edge. He lays there, head on Hannibal’s chest, one arm draped across his stomach, one of Hannibal’s arms behind his shoulders still rubbing circles between his shoulder blades. Will grips Hannibal’s shirt with one hand and refuses to let go as he drifts off to sleep. He won’t let Hannibal go, not tonight, not ever. Not if he can help it. 

Morning comes too quick, and Will wakes up to his alarm blaring on the bedside table. He feels Hannibal shift underneath him to turn off the sound, and Will groans.

“Let’s both just call in today,” Will mumbles. 

“I cannot agree to that, Will.”

“Not even for me?” Will’s walking his fingers against Hannibal’s stomach and putting on his best pout. “Mmm. We can stay in bed all day, no classes, no crime scenes, no patients.”

Hannibal extracts himself from underneath Will and starts getting dressed. “You try that every time I stay over during the week.”

“One day you’ll agree to it.” 

“We’ll see. Breakfast?”

Will lays on his back and sprawls across his bed, stretching. He lets out a strained noise before answering. “You won’t let me say no.”

Hannibal smiles, and leaves Will where he is to go cook breakfast. Will stretches again before sitting up on the edge of the bed. His cell phone starts to ring where it’s plugged in on the nightstand.

“That better not be Jack Crawford!” Hannibal calls from the kitchen.

“You already know it is,” Will sighs. He accepts the call, “Yeah?”

He must sound annoyed because Jack says, “Well, good morning to you too, Will. You think you’re gonna be at Quantico soon? I’ve got something I want you to take a look at.”

“Uh, yeah. I can leave my house in like twenty.” Will rubs a hand over his face.

“Alright meet me in my office, then. See you soon.” Jack hangs up.

Will thinks about his nightmare last night, of Jack showing up and telling Will the Ripper’s been apprehended, and then throwing him on the ground while he resisted arrest himself. Knowing what Hannibal is, who Hannibal is, and still showing up to work, teaching students about catching killers, looking Jack Crawford in the eye, pretending he doesn’t know anything, has been a battle for the last three months. The nightmare just makes it worse. Seeing Jack as the enemy, rather than seeing the serial killer in his kitchen as the enemy, must say something about his morals, he knows that. 

“Will, is everything okay?” Hannibal’s voice comes from the doorway into the kitchen. Will looks up at him, then down at his own body, and realizes he’s been standing there, in just his pants and one sock, staring at the ground. 

“Yeah I… It’s nothing. Jack called saying he has something for me to look at. He was just wondering when I’d be there.”

“Something’s weighing on you.” It’s not a question. Hannibal still wants an answer, though. He’s standing against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching Will intently. Will avoids his gaze and goes back to getting dressed. He doesn’t respond while he pulls on a button down shirt. It’s too big and he realizes it’s one of Hannibal’s, but he doesn’t care. “Will.”

Will sighs. “My nightmare last night was Jack showing up at my house while I was waiting for you, saying the Chesapeake Ripper has been caught, and then trying to arrest me, too. Jack just called and I spiraled for a second. That’s it.”

Hannibal nods slowly. Will’s glad Hannibal doesn’t press, doesn’t approach him, doesn’t try to comfort him. He knows that when Will finally comes out with something, it’s because he wants the subject dropped, not reassurance that everything will be fine. 

“Breakfast is ready,” Hannibal says instead, and turns around to go back into the kitchen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give me a few days for the next chapter. I think this fics gonna be longer than part one was because, the Ripper's story needs to come to an end before I can really get into the good stuff, but I'm not even through the Ending the Ripper Arc as I've been calling it in my head. Stay tuned I guess.


	4. Chapter 4

Will eats his breakfast fast, avoiding conversation with the man across from him at the table. He wants to get through the meal, through whatever Jack has to show him, and through his day as quick as possible. He stands up to bring his plate to the sink, Hannibal still pushing eggs around on his plate, immersed in an article on his tablet. 

“I’m heading out. Lock up when you leave?” Will asks, pushing in his chair and picking up his keys, phone and wallet. 

Hannibal nods and looks up at Will. “I have much to do tonight and tomorrow, so I won’t be able to spend the night with you. Please arrive at my house at 5:30 tomorrow wearing something nice.” As soon as he’s done talking, he’s looking at the screen again.

Will had completely forgotten about the opera date they have planned for tomorrow. Well, the one Hannibal has planned, that he’s being forced into. 

“Right.” Will nods once and goes to leave. Hannibal, too distracted by his tablet, doesn’t notice until Will is nearly gone. 

Hannibal calls his name just before he can reach the front door. Will stops, hand frozen in midair in front of the door knob. 

“Yeah?”

Hannibal is walking out of the kitchen and into Will’s personal space. 

“You forgot something.”

“What?” Will asks, frantically checking his pockets. Hannibal reaches out and stops his moving hands. When Will stops moving, Hannibal drops the other man’s hands and reaches up to tilt Will’s chin up with his fingers. He presses a soft kiss to Will’s lips.

“That.” Hannibal is grinning as he says it, which makes Will smile in return. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Will leaves one last kiss on Hannibal’s lips and walks out the front door. 

He makes it to Quantico sooner than anticipated and is still smiling when he walks into the building. On his way to Jack’s office, Will is intercepted by Beverly. 

“You come in here smiling like a kid in a candy store, and you’re wearing a shirt that clearly is not yours, and, oh my god, is that a hickey?” Beverly exclaims.

“What? No.” Will reaches up to his neck to feel for bruises. He racks his brain for any moment Hannibal’s lips would’ve been near his neck long enough for one to form, but no memories come up. 

“I’m just messing with you, but seriously that shirt is too expensive and too big to be yours.” 

Thankfully, they reach Jack’s office before he has a chance to try and come up with a response. 

“Will, Beverly,” Jack nods at both of them. “Show Will the photos.”

Beverly nods and sets down the folder she’d been carrying. Upon opening it, Will sees tons of photos of people stacked inside it. Will sits in a chair in front of Jack’s desk to look closer. 

“The bodies we found in the river were all people reported missing within a few days of each other from the same area. So I looked through all missing people from that area and these are the people that came up. We’re trying to find a connection,” Beverly explains, moving photos aside, spreading them out across Jack’s desk. 

Will looks at them as they move. At first glance, everyone appears to be different, no connection between any of the victims. And then it dawns on him.

“Don’t look for how they’re similar, look at how they’re different.” He starts to arrange the photos differently. “It’s a color palette.” 

“Well, shit. Leave it to Will Graham to figure it out in two seconds after we’ve been poring over these for nearly a week.” Jack laughs. He stands up, and claps Will on the shoulder for his not-so-hard work. 

“That still doesn’t give us the where or who’s doing it, though,” Beverly points out. 

“There’ll be something linking these bodies to a place where the killer is keeping them. If it is a palette, that explains why he’s preserving them, and it also means he needs a place to display his canvas,” Will says. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have lectures.” 

“Wait, Will,” Jack says as Will starts to stand up from his seat. He waves Beverly off, but gestures for Will to take a seat again. “I wanted to ask your opinion on something involving the Ripper.” 

Will’s heart skips in his chest, but he keeps his expression neutral. He remembers his nightmare once again. Anything that could give him up to Jack needs to stay pushed as far down as humanly possible. 

“He’s never left any evidence before now, and yet here we are with Miriam Lass alive and nearly well,” Jack starts. “It’s suspicious, don’t you think?”

“I think the Ripper is just getting reckless. This is a person who does what he does as a way of performing. Maybe he’s gotten bored because it’s taking us so long to catch him.”

“You think he’s leaving evidence because he wants to get caught?” Jack asks.

“I think he wants us to try,” Will shrugs. “Whatever he’s doing... I think it’s going to be dangerous for us.” It’s not a lie either. Not really. Will just doesn’t specify who ‘us’ is in the equation. He’s very worried that Hannibal’s plan is going to jeopardize their entire lives as they know it. 

Jack ponders on what Will said for a moment before nodding. “We’re getting close, but he still thinks he can beat us.”

“It’s all just a game to him,” Will agrees. “Now I really do need to get to my classes.” 

“Right. I’ll see you later,” Jack says. 

Will leaves Jack’s office and bumps into Jimmy Price on his way around a corner. “Nice shirt,” Jimmy winks. Will sighs in response, unsure if Price knows whose shirt it is, or if he just knows it’s not Will’s. Either way, Will knows he should’ve switched when he realized it wasn’t his own. 

Will gets to his office and checks his phone, seeing a message from Hannibal.

_ I am leaving your house now. Your dogs have been fed and let outside and are now in your bed. I do not understand why you spend so much money on dog beds that they refuse to use. Call me later if you would like.  _

Will laughs at the message, and puts his phone away to get ready for his classes. A Friday means he doesn’t have many and can be home a few hours early, just as long as Jack doesn’t call him down to look at some bodies. 

Will gets through all of his lectures, sits through his office hours that no one ever shows up to, and checks the time as he’s walking out to his car. 3:30 PM. He can never remember Hannibal’s Friday schedule for patients because it seems like it’s always changing. Will thinks he might leave Fridays for rescheduled appointments, but he really doesn’t know, so instead of calling, he sends Hannibal a text. 

_ call me when you’re free. heading home rn _

And his phone rings within seconds, Hannibal’s name lighting up the screen, he smiles. 

“Hey,” Will says, answering the phone. 

“Hi, Will.”

Making sure no one is close enough to hear, Will still lowers his voice just in case. He’s outside the building, but it’s always possible someone’s listening somewhere. “So Jack asked me about the Ripper today. Told him that whatever the Ripper’s doing, it’s for an audience, he’s a performer. I said whatever it is, it’s going to be dangerous for us.”

Hannibal hums, seemingly satisfied with how Will handled being questioned by Jack. “And what did Jack have to say about that?”

“He thinks we’re getting closer, but that the Ripper thinks he can still beat us. I said it’s all just a game to him,” Will says. His car is in sight now, and he can see someone leaning against the driver’s side. He sees the flaming red hair before anything else. “Hey, I gotta go. Love you.” Will says it without even thinking, and hangs up the phone before Hannibal can say anything.

“I heard that,” Freddie Lounds says from next to Will’s car. Will stills. He doesn’t know how much Freddie heard, but he realizes what his last words to Hannibal were. “Who’s the lucky lady who gets to be loved by someone like  _ you _ ?” Freddie sneers.

“Why are you here, Freddie? Can’t ask Abigail about me so you’ve decided to come straight to the source?” Will scoffs. He makes a gesture to tell Freddie to move, and she scoots out of the way of the back door so Will can put his bag in the seat.

“Can I not come by for a friendly conversation? I heard your birthday’s tomorrow.”

“No you cannot come by for a friendly conversation, and how did you find that out?” Will’s standing in front of her, arms crossed. 

“I have my ways,” Freddie shrugs. “I heard the Ripper let Miriam Lass get found just in time for your birthday. Quite the present don’t you think?”

“I don’t think the Ripper has any interest in giving me a gift.” And it’s true. If being taken to the opera against his will is how the days already going, then he’s sure Hannibal doesn’t even know it’s his birthday.

“That’s where I think you’re wrong, Will Graham. Several months ago the Ripper left a person in the shape of a heart, and I wrote about the declaration of love, if you recall. This was right after his sounder was interrupted while you were working another case.” Upon Will’s look, she says, “You’re not the only one who can jump to conclusions. It seems as though the Ripper wanted to give you time to breathe, and then gave you a reason why… then you were out of commission during your recovery,” Will gives her another look. He wants to hear her out, though. Needs to know how royally fucked they might be. “Oh, come on, I can find out anything. Anyways, the Ripper didn’t kill once while you were out. Now Miriam turns up. What’s next? He turns himself in with a sign that says ‘I love Will Graham’ on it? I think you’re in danger, Will. And no one is seeming to notice this pattern, but me.”

“Freddie, with all due respect, you’re crazy. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get home.”

“You need to tell Jack Crawford.” Freddie isn’t moving from where she stands.

“I’m not in any danger,” Will says firmly. 

“If you become a Ripper tableau, I’ll be writing an article about how I warned you,” she says, and finally moves out of Will’s way. He gets in his car and shuts the door without another word. 

When he finally gets home, he lets out the dogs and calls Hannibal again while he watches the dogs run in the fields around his house.

“Freddie Lounds said the Ripper is in love with me and left Miriam as a present.”

“And why would she say that?”

“She said she can jump to conclusions, too. She thinks I’m in danger,” Will laughs.

“You will be if you say you love me without waiting for a response before hanging up very rudely, or falling asleep.”

Will thinks Hannibal’s joking, but then he also thinks he’s dead serious. “It’s not like you didn’t already know.”

“You’ve never told me,” Hannibal says. Will doesn’t think he’s ever heard Hannibal’s voice sound so small. 

“I’m not good with expressing things like that. I’m better at showing than I am at saying it, Hannibal. Besides, didn’t you know if I didn’t, you’d be behind bars, or dead by now?” Will’s laughing, but Hannibal’s silent on the other end of the line. “That’s not funny, sorry.”

When Hannibal doesn’t say anything, Will says, “It’s not like we’ve even been together that long, Hannibal. A lot of couples don’t say it to each other as soon as this.”

“We’re not like a lot of couples, though, are we?”

“No, I suppose not.”

“It’s just disheartening every time I tell you I love you, and you didn’t say it back. I didn’t think you loved me.” Hannibal’s voice cracks when he says it, and Will’s heart clenches. 

“Hannibal… of course I love you, you idiot. You think I’d let anyone take care of me when I’m sick? Or sleep in my bed and take up the space meant for my dogs? Or let anyone dress me up and take me to the opera? Fuck, I’m letting you take me on my goddamned birthday, and I don’t say a word about it!” The words fall out before Will can stop them, and when he realizes what he’s said, he’s quickly saying, “I don’t mean it like that. I love the opera, and wouldn’t have it any other way as long as I’m spending time with you.”

“Will, I didn’t realize tomorrow was your birthday,” Hannibal says, disappointed. “You never told me… we can change our plans. Or if you had other plans… It’s not-”

Will cuts him off, “Shut up, Hannibal. We’re going because it makes you happy, and I want to see you happy because I love you.” 

“Very well. I love you, too.”

“Are you sure you have too much going on? Couldn’t I just come over tonight so I’m already at your house tomorrow evening?”

“No, I’m sorry, but it’s better if you stay home tonight and tomorrow while I do this.”

“You’re being safe, right?” 

“Always. I must go now.”

“Okay, bye.” Will hangs up, and calls the dogs in. 

Whatever Hannibal’s up to, it can’t actually be safe for him, if he’s so worried about Will not being around for it. It’s never been an issue, if Will stays sleeping in Hannibal’s bed, or wanders around his house while Hannibal’s gone. Hell, he sits at the top of the stairs leading into the basement, just so he can talk to Hannibal while the man works sometimes. Will’s never watched, nor has he participated in what Hannibal does, but he sits on the floor near the open trap door and listens, and they talk about their days, or about what’s for dinner, or cases Will’s working on. Whatever Hannibal’s doing, Will doesn’t understand why it would be so different this time. He wonders if he needs to pack a go-bag just in case things go wrong.

Will decides he needs to distract himself until tomorrow evening. He feeds the dogs and makes himself a sandwich, which he eats leaning over the sink. He knows Hannibal would consider killing him if he saw what Will was doing, but Will doesn’t even care. Will looks at his dirty clothes hamper, and sees it’s full, so he does a load of laundry. While that’s going, he pours himself a drink and looks at the dogs, who are sitting in front of him, watching him while he leans against his counter. 

He sighs. “You guys haven’t gotten baths in a while, have you?” They don’t answer him because they’re dogs, but they run outside when he opens the door and gets their basin filled with water. He bathes each dog, which takes well over two hours because he has six of them, and as obedient as they are, they don’t like staying still for baths. He dries each dog off, and they run inside to lay in front of the space heaters, which aren’t even turned on yet.

Will turns on the heaters for the dogs, and then goes to flip his laundry. With still so much time to kill, he goes back to the kitchen and starts washing dishes by hand. There aren’t many, just what Hannibal used for breakfast that morning, so it doesn’t take long. He wants to call Hannibal again, just to make sure he’s still okay, but he doesn’t. If he’s trying to sneak up on someone, it wouldn’t be good for his phone to start ringing and startle the victim. Will can’t believe himself. He should be appalled at the idea that his boyfriend might be out killing someone, should report him to the FBI, or at the very least the police, but instead he’s making it as easy as possible for him to be doing it. Will doesn’t know exactly when his moral compass stopped pointing in the right direction, but he figures it was probably long before Hannibal even came into the picture. Hannibal just enables him. 

His mind begins to wander at that. He knows Hannibal wanted to turn Will into a killer. Hannibal never told him his exact plan, and it wasn’t written in his notes for Will, but Will knows it revolved around the encephalitis diagnosis. Or a lack of an encephalitis diagnosis. It was bad enough at the point it had reached, and Will doesn’t know how many more hallucinations he’d be willing to take. Then there’s the fever, and the possibility of seizures on top of that. He was losing time badly enough, and he doesn’t even want to know how Hannibal planned on taking advantage of the illness.

Hannibal loves him now, he knows because of all the way he shows and says it, but he still doubts how the man could switch from wanting to take advantage of his brain being on fire, to being the person who scheduled an appointment, paid the medical bills, and then nursed him back to health. If Hannibal loved him all along, he’s glad Hannibal didn’t take his extremely fucked up route of making it known to Will. If Hannibal hadn’t had feelings for him all along, he’s glad they developed in time to save Will from whatever plan Hannibal had.

Still, Will has no idea if Hannibal’s planning on turning him into a killer still, or if the dream has been given up, and at this point he really doesn’t want to ask. Will’s morals are already so skewed, he doesn’t know if he’d even try to resist the temptation if Hannibal put a knife in his hand, and a carefully chosen victim in front of him. So far, Hannibal hasn’t done that, though. He hasn’t even asked Will if he wants to watch, or join him. He’s made no attempt to bring Will into that side of his world, yet. 

With the dishes clean, he cleans out expired food from the fridge and pantry, and by then the dryer is done, and the dogs are sleeping. He changes his beds sheets and lays out his clothes to be folded on a clean bed, with no risk of dog hair getting on them, but that never actually works, and as he’s putting them into his dresser, they’re already covered in fur, and he closes the dresser drawer in defeat. 

Will decides to pour himself another drink, and he settles into a chair near the fireplace. It’s not late enough to go to sleep, but he has nothing else to do but sit. He doesn’t turn on the TV, he doesn’t bother going on his phone. He just sits and watches the rise and fall of the sleeping dogs’ stomachs.

Will doesn’t know when he fell asleep, but when he wakes up, his neck is sore from falling asleep sitting up. He sits up straight and lets out a strained groan as he stretches his arms above his head. HE stands up and stumbles to his bed across the room, kicking off his pants, and taking off his shirt before falling into the bed. The alarm clock on his bedside table says it’s after 3 am, and he has no idea how he slept as long as he did in the chair. 

By the time he wakes up again, he feels well rested, and the dogs are nosing at his face, ready to be let out and fed. He does what they want, and pours himself a bowl of cereal, which he eats while the dogs eat their own breakfasts. 

Will showers, knowing Hannibal will be disappointed if he smells during a night out, even though no one with a normal nose would be able to tell. He uses the products Hannibal bought him, and he trims his facial hair afterwards. He runs a hand through his hair, and decides he’s gonna need a haircut soon. Hannibal seems to like when his hair is longer and unruly, but Will has his limits. 

Even after he’s showered, and shaved, he has quite a bit of time to kill, so he decides to vacuum. There’s only so much dog hair each rug can hold before Hannibal starts to complain, so he does it. He makes himself a sandwich for lunch, takes the dogs out to run around for a while, and when he comes in, it’s finally an acceptable time to start getting dressed. He looks through the closet where he keeps his suits, as well as some of Hannibal’s clothes, and frowns. He calls Hannibal.

On the second ring, Hannibal picks up with a, “Hello?” And Will can hear the smile in his voice.

“Hey, is my black suit at your house?”

“Mmm, I’m not certain. If it’s not at yours, then it must be. I’m not home at the moment. Wear your tux. I haven’t seen you in it yet,” Hannibal sounds very preoccupied.

“Where are you?” Will asks. 

“If anyone asks, I’m picking up a few things from the market,” Hannibal says. Will remembers that Hannibal said the man he’s framing was coming home from a trip Saturday afternoon, which is right now.

“Got it. Say no more. I will see you at 5:30, then.” Will hangs up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting two days in a row? I guess so. Hope y'all enjoyed bored Will Graham, and Freddie coming into the story. I don't know if I have plans for her or not, but I think she needs to make at least one appearance, so there she is. Also I just like the idea that Hannibal thinks Will doesn't love him because he doesn't say it often, and Will calls him an idiot for thinking that, so I included that, too. Please leave comments, I love knowing what you all think!


	5. Chapter 5

Will starts getting dressed and then stops when he starts to reach for a tie. He decides to call Hannibal again. 

“Sorry to bother you again,” Will starts.

“Nonsense. I was finishing up the first time you called. I’m on my way to the actual market now,” Hannibal responds. “Did you need something?”

“Can I wear a straight tie with a tuxedo?”

Hannibal sighs into the phone. “A bow tie is traditional, but I suppose if you’d prefer a straight tie, that’ll suffice.” 

“Which would you prefer I wear?” 

“Do you know how to tie a bowtie?”

“Not proficiently,” Will laughs. 

“Wear a straight tie then,” Hannibal decides. “Was there anything specific you wanted for dinner tonight?”

“Oh, you’re actually giving me an option?”

“It’s your birthday, I believe I can compromise.” 

“Whatever you decide on is fine with me.” 

They talk for quite a while about nothing in particular, Will asks what show they’re seeing, Hannibal answers, but it sounds Italian so he has no idea what Hannibal said. Hannibal tells him that the plan is going smoothly so far, Will tells him he fell asleep in a chair last night. A simple back and forth that neither one wants to hang up on. Will has him on speaker while he finishes getting dressed, keeps him on the line while he lets the dogs out and feeds them, and then lets them out again. Hannibal’s moving through the grocery store, telling Will about what he’s picking up, reading labels out loud, thinking out loud whether he has a wine that could pair with this or that. 

Finally, Hannibal tells Will he’s about to check out, and has to hang up. Will ends the call first, and calls the dogs inside. He sends Alana a text.

_ going to the opera tonight. could you check on the dogs later? if not, i will come home afterwards instead of staying at hannibal’s _

He really hopes he won’t have to come home, but leaving this early in the evening, and not coming back until the next afternoon would be cruel to the dogs. Will hates having to ask Alana to check on them, but she’s closer than Baltimore is, and no one else knows why he won’t be home, so she’s the only option. He doesn’t wait for a text back before he’s getting into his car and on the road. 

By the time he reaches Hannibal’s it’s just after 5:30, and he still doesn’t have a text back from Alana, which is weird because she usually texts back within a few minutes. Will gets out of his car, and gives himself a once over before grabbing his emergency lint roller from his center console and getting more dog hair off his clothes. Hannibal knows it’s inevitable, and never complains when Will’s covered in fur, but Will still feels rude showing up somewhere fancy and leaving six different breeds of dog in the seat, or on the dresses and suits of people he stands too close to.

Will opens the front door and lets himself in. He instantly hears the sound of Hannibal’s harpsichord, and walks toward the living room where the instrument resides. He’s thinking about walking in the room, and wrapping his arms around Hannibal’s shoulders from behind, but his fantasy is stopped before it can be turned into a reality.

Stopping dead in his tracks in the doorway, a crowd of voices erupt over Hannibal’s playing, “Surprise!” Will looks at the smiling faces in front of him, his own face covered in his own shock. Hannibal’s getting up from the bench and walking over to Will in the doorway. Will is still standing where he is, completely surprised, and unsure what exactly is going on. He scans the room and sees Alana, Beverly, Jimmy, Brian, Jack, even Abigail looking back at him, as well as so many other guests he knows, but doesn’t really know that well. Mrs Komeda, and a few of Hannibal’s other friends are there. A surprise birthday party. He’s going to kill Hannibal the second they get a minute alone. 

“Happy birthday, Will,” Hannibal says softly. “I apologize for lying about our plans tonight.” And Hannibal’s leaving Will where he is to go check on something in the kitchen. Will doesn’t follow. Instead Alana is coming up to him, and he snaps out of his shock to smile at her. 

“Yes, I can check on the dogs,” she whispers. The rest of the crowd has begun to converse amongst themselves.

“When was this planned?” Will asks. 

“I believe Hannibal met with a few people last Friday to plan this out,” Alana shrugs.

Of course. Hannibal wasn’t hanging out with his friends without him, he was planning a surprise party for him. Will looks at the room again and sees everyone’s dressed nice, but not expensive-tuxedo-bought-by-rich-boyfriend nice. He feels over dressed. He wonders what Hannibal told everyone was the excuse to get Will here, and what they’re thinking about him being dressed in the nicest, most expensive thing he owns. 

Will’s glad he picked the straight red tie instead of a bowtie, because it throws off the fanciness of the tuxedo just enough. He’s extremely glad he didn’t bring in an overnight bag, and that he decided he had enough clothes already here for the night. He’s also glad he didn’t walk in yelling something embarrassing, like he has before. Like the time Hannibal wasn’t even home last weekend, and he walked in yelling that he didn’t smell like a dog anymore. Oh, Hannibal plays dangerous games. 

“And here I was thinking he was cheating on me. This might actually be worse,” Will murmurs. He and Alana are still standing in the doorway, no one able to hear them, but he doesn’t want to risk it. 

“This won’t be so bad, Will.”

“Easy for you to say.”

Will excuses himself, and goes to the kitchen to find Hannibal putting finishing touches on the appetizers that’ll be carried around by the staff he seemingly hired for the occasion.

“Okay, what the fuck, Hannibal?” Will asks, storming into the kitchen. 

Hannibal looks up from the plates in front of him and grins from ear to ear. “I told you everything would be fine, Will. This is what I was doing last Friday.”

“Alana told me. Seriously, what the hell? I could’ve walked in with an overnight bag, or saying something stupid. You’re lucky I didn’t!” Will’s getting worked up, and before he can get too mad, Hannibal is walking up to him, and cupping his cheeks with his hands. Will is about to say something else, but Hannibal shuts him up with a kiss. Will sighs against Hannibal’s lips, forgetting he was angry just seconds ago. The moment doesn’t last long enough, and Hannibal is pulling away and dropping his hands to his sides again. 

“I’m afraid I had to interrupt you because I won’t be able to do that again until everyone leaves. Go back to your party,” Hannibal smiles. Will opens his mouth but Hannibal reaches up to Will’s face again and cups a cheek with one hand. “I’m well aware that you wish to talk to me about this, but it’ll have to wait.”

“Hey, are we going to tell Abigail tonight, then? Instead of visiting tomorrow?” Will asks. 

Hannibal hums in thought. He’s gone back to his plating of the different dishes. “If you’d like. She came here with Alana, so maybe the two of them can stay after everyone leaves for a few minutes.”

“Or I’ll bring her in here right now,” Will suggests. 

“No, go back to your party. We will tell Abigail later,” Hannibal says. That’s final, then. 

Will turns on his heel and goes back to the living room where everyone’s still standing, talking. He immediately goes to Hannibal’s liquor cabinet and pulls out his favorite whiskey and a glass. He downs one before pouring himself another. If he’s expected to enjoy this party, he’s not going to be sober for it. 

The staff come through carrying trays of things Will doesn’t know the name of, but he takes them anyways. He has no idea what the ingredients are, he doesn’t even know if Hannibal’s had time to kill enough people to supply an entire party. He doesn’t even know how Hannibal had enough time to cook anything at all, with the entire plan he’s been working on, and with having been at the market just before Will left his house just over an hour and a half ago. 

Will makes his rounds through the room. Jimmy Price and Brian Zeller are in one of their typical arguments when he walks up to them. Jimmy looks Will up and down, taking in what he’s wearing. Will knows the gears are turning in his head, just as they turned in Beverly’s the day she found out. He knows Jimmy is putting two and two together: first the expensive shirt from the day before, and now an even more expensive tux. 

“Someone has a sugar daddy. Who is it?” Price asks, taking a sip of his drink. 

“Could be a sugar mommy,” Zeller points out.

“Either way, you did not buy yourself that tuxedo,” Price finishes. 

Will just shrugs and makes a gesture to show his lips are sealed. The two men are not happy with this, but Beverly swoops in just in time, taking over the conversation. 

“Lecter’s got a pretty nice house, huh? Can’t believe he lives here by himself.” 

“It’s huge, isn’t it? You think he’ll give us a tour?” Zeller asks. Beverly winks at Will and he gives her a grateful look for giving him an out from the conversation. He wanders off through the room, looking for someone else to talk to that won’t push to get information from him. 

This doesn’t work well because the next person that makes eye contact with him is Freddie Lounds. Whoever invited her is getting put in Hannibal’s basement, he decides. 

“Who invited you?” Will asks her, not trying to hide the irritation he feels. 

“Doctor Lecter did, actually. Oddly enough, the man agreed to invite me back into his home again,” she smiles. Will wants to wipe the smile off her face, but more importantly he wants to go kill Hannibal right this second. “I’m mostly just here to see if you told Jack Crawford what I told you about yesterday.”

“Tell me about what?” 

Will jumps at Jack’s voice behind him. 

Freddie grins, “Oh hello, Jack. I didn’t see you there. Well, I’ll let you two discuss that. Happy birthday, Will.”

Freddie walks off through the room, and Will turns his attention to Jack who’s standing in front of him, arms crossed, face serious. 

“What was that about?” Jack asks.

“Freddie Lounds thinks the Ripper is trying to send messages to me, that the human heart was a love letter to me,” it was, but that’s beside the point, “and that Miriam was a birthday present. She thinks I’m in danger.” 

“And what do you think?”

“I think she’s insane. If the Ripper wanted to kill me, he would’ve done it by now,” Will shrugs. He sips at his whiskey. 

If Jack thinks Will’s in any sort of trouble, he’s going to put him under protection. That would mean either not seeing Hannibal, or telling Jack about their relationship. If it’s the latter, then Hannibal wouldn’t be able to leave and follow out his plan without someone being suspicious. He wouldn’t be able to use Will as an alibi if they’re being watched and it’s clear he wasn’t actually with Will. So, he makes no indication that he’s worried. 

Will’s calm demeanor seems to satisfy Jack. He puts a hand on Will’s shoulder and nods, “If you do feel like you’re in danger, you need to let me know. Freddie is known to speculate things that aren’t her business knowing. She’s probably just jumping to conclusions with no real basis.”

Will nods in agreement, “I’m not worried, Jack. I’ve got guns in my house, my dogs will alert me if anyone comes in. I don’t think I’ll have any problems.”

“If you’re sure, then I’ll take your word for it.” 

“I’m sure. I say no more talk about work during my birthday,” Will suggests.

“I hear that.” 

Jack wishes Will a happy birthday, pats him on the back and Will goes to find someone else to talk to. Mrs. Komeda is standing in the corner with her husband, and a few of the people Will’s met at the opera, and Hannibal’s last dinner party. He decides to get that conversation over with, knowing he’ll have to talk to everyone at least once before he’s allowed to sit down and not talk to anyone at all. 

Mrs Komeda asks who knows about him and Hannibal’s relationship, and Will points to Alana and then Beverly as discreetly as possible, then tells her they’ll be telling Abigail later. Someone else whose name he can never remember asks where he got his tuxedo, and Will shrugs and says to ask Hannibal. Will never pays attention to shop names when Hannibal’s on a mission to dress him up, he just does what Hannibal says, and follows him wherever Hannibal goes. 

“Was there even actually a performance tonight? Hannibal said we were going to the opera.”

“Just one we’ve already seen. You have, too, actually. Didn’t you ask what you were seeing?” Mrs Komeda asks.

Will laughs. “He said something in Italian. He knows I never remember anything he tells me in other languages.”

That makes the entire circle of Baltimore’s elite laugh, and he sees it as an out. He excuses himself, and goes to sit next to Abigail, who’s now sitting alone on a couch, looking bored as ever. 

“Having fun?” Will jokes. 

“A blast,” she says sarcastically. “I love you guys, and I’m glad to be here, but these parties are always boring.”

“Tell me about it. At least you knew about it,” Will says. He looks around the room, sees everyone’s off in their own conversations, then turns to Abigail again. “You want a drink?”

“Alana would kill us both.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Nevermind, then.” 

“Sucks that all of my freedom’s been taken away because of something my dad did. Maybe I’m traumatized, but it’s not like I’m dangerous and need to be practically locked up you know?” 

Will sighs. “Yeah, I know. You were getting ready to leave home, but here you are being constantly monitored by nurses and doctors, and only allowed to leave with a chaperone. It’s gotta be discouraging.” 

Abigail nods, agreeing. Will makes a decision, then stands up, and offers a hand to Abigail to pull her up too. 

“Come on, me and Hannibal have something to tell you about.” If no one else in the world trusts her, then he and Hannibal need to be in her corner. 

Abigail looks confused as she accepts Will’s hand to be pulled off the couch to her feet. He drops her hand, makes sure she’s going to follow, and then heads off towards the kitchen to find Hannibal again. He’s putting something in the oven, and stills when he sees Will and Abigail in the doorway. 

“We’re telling her now, Hannibal.”

“Very well, just one moment.” Hannibal finishes putting the pan in the oven, and wipes his hands off on a towel. He leans against the counter on his elbows, facing Abigail and Will who are standing on the other side of the counter. “Would you like to, or should I?”

Will wastes no time. “Hannibal and I are in a relationship.” 

Abigail’s eyes go wide in surprise, and then a huge smile appears on her face. “Really? Like you’re not messing with me?”

“Really, Abigail,” Hannibal nods. 

“Took you long enough! Wait… how long?”

Will scratches the back of his head, “Three months.” He says quietly, almost hoping Abigail doesn’t hear, and drops it.

“Three months? Actually, that makes sense. You guys stare at each other way too much.”

Will feels his face start to go red, and then he laughs. Hannibal just smiles, smugly. 

“Who else knows?”

“Alana, Beverly, and Hannibal’s rich friends that are here,” Will tells her. “We’ll tell you more later, but there is something else I feel I should… just suggest.” Will is looking at Hannibal when he says it. This is more about Hannibal than anything because he knows Abigail will agree without a second thought. 

Hannibal looks at Will expectantly. 

“Right, so I think we need to get Abigail out of that facility. I don’t know the protocol for that kind of thing, but surely she can live with one of us, right?”

Abigail’s mouth drops open. “Really?”

“Only if you want, but yeah. We both have spare rooms, you can pick whoever. We can help you get a job or apply to schools, and I’m sure Hannibal would buy you a car if you ask nicely,” Will says. He raises an eyebrow at Hannibal, daring him to say no. 

Hannibal thinks for a second, “Well, I was going to wait to bring this up to you, but I was going to suggest we move in together at some point. Not yet, but if Abigail does want to live with us, she wouldn’t have to choose.”

Will goes still. “You want to live together?” 

“Surely, you must have known, Will.”

Will shakes his head. “Can we have this conversation later, actually?” 

Will does want to live with Hannibal. He hates being away from him during the week, and only being guaranteed to see each other on weekends isn’t ideal. Of course, Will convinces Hannibal to come by during the week, and sometimes he makes the drive instead, but it’s not as often as Will likes. He liked the idea when Hannibal referred to Will’s house as ‘home’ the night Will told him he loved him, but now that it’s a real possibility, Will thinks it’s too much, too soon. He almost regrets asking if they could help Abigail. Almost. 

“Of course,” Hannibal nods. He checks the timer on the oven. “I’m done in here for now, how about we go back to your party?”

Will nods. Abigail has been looking at them like she feels like she’s intruding on a private moment. She shifts back and forth on her feet, awkwardly. 

“Abigail, go ahead. I need to talk to Hannibal for a minute,” Will says. 

Abigail nods and leaves the kitchen. 

“You invited Freddie.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

Hannibal’s eyes dart around the kitchen, then into the hallway outside the room. Some of the staff are moving around the kitchen, and Hannibal tilts his head in the direction of his study. They leave the kitchen, wordlessly, and don’t speak a single word until they’re behind closed and locked doors, in Hannibal’s study across the house, away from any curious ears.

“She cornered me, and baited me into telling Jack about the Ripper leaving gifts for me,” Will starts. He watches Hannibal’s face as he says it. “That was your plan? Why?”

“Because you were not going to tell him yourself,” Hannibal shrugs.

“This is reckless, Hannibal.”

“On the contrary, my love. Jack Crawford now knows about the Ripper’s obsession with you. This works out very well, actually.” Hannibal goes to his desk and pulls on a pair of latex gloves from a box in his drawer, then moves a rug to reveal a trapdoor, much like the one leading to his basement. “Gloves, or don’t touch anything.”

Will pulls on a pair of gloves and quickly moves to follow Hannibal where he disappeared into the floor. He realizes it’s just an alternate entrance to his basement, away from the kitchen, in case company is over. Will takes the stairs down, and looks around the dark room. He’s never actually been in the basement before, only sat at the entrance in Hannibal’s pantry, and peered down into the room. 

The entire basement looks very surgical and clean. Not what one would expect from a normal serial killer. But then, Hannibal isn’t the normal serial killer that Will would usually deal with. There’s medical instruments, surgical tables, different types of saws, like one would finding in a woodworking shop. 

“You wear those?” Will points to a pair of big rubber boots sitting under an apron hanging on the wall. 

“Sometimes.”

“You’re full of surprises, huh?” 

Hannibal brings Will past a wall of chains and restraints, and Will wonders just how many people have been held down here, and for how long. Was Miriam Lass here the entire time until Hannibal brought her to the cabin where she was found? Will can’t imagine he would keep her somewhere she could escape without his immediate knowledge of the situation. No, he would have kept her right under his feet for as long as possible to ensure she stayed where she was. 

“Now, when you told me what Miss Lounds said it gave me an idea. Now that Jack Crawford is also aware, I believe this will very much work out perfectly,” Hannibal says, stopping in front of a dark wooden armoire. “I will admit I have not slept much in the last twenty four hours.”

Hannibal opens up the armoire and Will’s mouth drops open at the sight in front of him. “Hannibal, what the hell?”

“I’m bringing this to the house of the man I’ve been telling you about.” Hannibal explains. Will is still staring, mouth open. “Tonight, I will be leaving a body, and there will be evidence leading to him. He’s going to wake up to officers knocking on his door, and won’t even have time to notice what I have done in his home. This will be found as well. We will give Miss Lounds some satisfaction, because she is correct after all.”

“You built a shrine of me? Are you… You know what? Okay. Yeah, Hannibal, this is kind of creepy, actually,” Will is pacing around the basement. “I cannot believe the Chesapeake Ripper stayed up all night glueing photos of me into a cabinet. You don’t have one of these for your own house, do you? Like there’s only one and it’s going to be collected as evidence once the FBI finds it in… who’s the guy?”

“I assure you this is the only Will Graham shrine in this house” Hannibal grabs Will’s upper arms to stop his pacing. He holds him at arm’s length away, and Will meets his eyes. “And I would like to keep the identity a secret for now. I believe you’ll like that surprise more than this one.” He gestures at the shrine. “I think our guests will likely wonder where we are if we don’t return soon. Come on.” 

“Hannibal how did you even get those pictures of my dog. And was that my old FBI badge? I lost that at a crime scene somewhere. Jesus Christ. You printed out the articles Freddie wrote? God, you’re insufferable,” Will keeps going as Hannibal guides him out of the basement and back into his study. 

“If insufferable is me trying to build a safe future for us, then yes.” Hannibal closes the trapdoor and replaces the rug. Will is already on his way to the door to leave the room when Hannibal says, “Gloves, Will.”

“Right.” He peels them off and hands them to Hannibal to be disposed of, and he goes back to the party in the living room. Will almost wants to tell Jack right then and there that he’s currently in the Ripper’s house just to prove some sort of point to Hannibal, but he doesn’t know what point that would really prove, so he doesn’t. He tells himself that’s the only reason he doesn’t turn Hannibal in right now. He can’t believe the man stayed up building a shrine, stocked full of missing belongings, photos of his house, articles about his cases. Hannibal even went as far as putting candles in it. He’s glad the cabinet wasn’t very big, or else Hannibal probably would’ve put a lifesize cardboard cutout of Will in there too. 

“If you’re going to wander off from your own birthday party to makeout with your boyfriend, maybe don’t be gone for so long. People are suspecting,” Beverly whispers to him when he walks back into the room.

“Who’s people?”

“Zeller and Price are really starting to put the clues together, man. And I’m sure Freddie thinks something’s off, too.” 

“I don’t care about Jimmy and Brian anymore, just make sure Freddie doesn’t know anything,” Will shrugs. “I really don’t know why we’re keeping it such a big secret from everyone. Not like anyone here is homophobic. We told Abigail.”

“How’d she take it?”

“Well, I think. I suggested we take her out of that facility, and uh.”

“What is it?” Beverly presses.

“Hannibal wants to live together.” 

Will is moving Beverly to the corner of the room where the harpsichord sits. They both sit down on the small bench, away from anyone trying to listen in. Will is glad to have Beverly as a friend. Jimmy and Brian are cool, but they always get lost on tangents, or they don’t take anything seriously. Alana takes everything too seriously, or thinks Will’s looking for advice from a therapist. Jack’s great, but Will doesn’t like the idea of being friends with the man who is essentially his boss, and in charge of catching the man he loves. Beverly, though, treats Will like a human being. He trusts her not to try and pick his brain out of curiosity, and he trusts her to listen as a friend. 

“And you don’t?” 

“It’s not that I don’t, it’s just him actually saying it made it…”

“Too real?” Beverly finishes for him.

“Yes.”

She turns, giving Will a meaningful look, and puts a hand on his shoulder. “You guys are good together, he’s good for you. Just do what you’re comfortable with and I’m sure he’ll understand either way. You love each other, right?” Will nods. “I wouldn’t be too worried about things being too real.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Will agrees. 

Hannibal finally comes into the room a few moments later, for the first time since Will arrived. He clears his throat and everyone turns to look at him in the doorway.

“Our main course for the evening is now ready, if everyone would like to move to the dining room,” Hannibal announces. Nobody wastes any time leaving the room, except for Will, who stays where he is on the harpsichord bench. Hannibal is still standing in the doorway of the living room, and when everyone’s out of the room, Will finally stands. 

They meet in the middle of the room. “What kind of animal is on the table tonight, Hannibal?”

“Pig. An actual pig. I haven’t had much time to prepare anything else.”

Will nods and kisses Hannibal’s cheek before moving around him and heading into the dining room. The table is fairly full, with seats pushed closer together than normal. He goes to sit in an open seat to the left of the head of the table, but Hannibal stops him with a hand on his shoulder. 

“You are the guest of honor, Will, I must insist you sit at the head of the table.” That is very unexpected. Normally Hannibal always takes the head of the table, especially with him being the host, and all. 

The rest of the table lets out words of agreement, and Will can feel heat rising on the back of his neck. The hand still on his shoulder feels like it’s burning a hole through his jacket. He nods stiffly, and moves over to sit down. He feels too exposed sitting there, like everyone can see him if they want to. 

Hannibal’s hand brushes his own where it’s sitting on the table, and he gives Will a comforting smile before taking the seat to his left. He hopes Hannibal won’t leave his side again for the rest of the night. Or at least until after everyone else has gone home, and he has to leave in the middle of the night for Ripper business. It seems the staff that he hired are going to be bringing out the plates, and Will lets himself relax a little bit. This night’s been full of surprises, and he doesn’t like surprises. Especially not ones like being put at the head of the table or a surprise party, after finding out his boyfriend built a shrine for him. He just has to get through dinner, he keeps telling himself. No more surprises after dinner, he hopes. Will is disappointed to realize the surprises never seem to stop. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A surprise party? For WIll Graham? I shouldn't have! Hope you like this! Please leave some comments if you would like to!


	6. Chapter 6

Will does make it through dinner just fine. The food is as good as always, and it helps to have Hannibal to his left and Abigail on his right. It feels like their own little family at the end of the table and he isn’t expected by anyone to make conversation across the table. 

The subject of the three of them living together doesn’t come up again for the rest of the dinner, instead they talk about how Abigail’s group sessions are going, if she’s made any friends, things like that. In turn Will tells her about the dogs, and fishing, and small bits he’s allowed to share about cases. Hannibal tells her about the latest books he’s reading and how his latest piece on the harpsichord is coming along. It's a simple, easy conversation that can be had in front of anyone. 

Will catches different eyes peering down at the end of the table, darting away every time he makes eye contact. Jimmy and Brian look at him then Hannibal, then turn away when Will notices. He knows they’re going to ask him about it on Monday. Freddie Lounds is watching the three of them, eyes moving between Abigail and Hannibal then Will and then Abigail again. Freddie doesn’t avert her gaze when Will catches her. He doesn’t expect her to. Mrs Komeda smiles and winks at them at some point through dinner and Hannibal, honest to god, smirks when she does. 

After dinner, Alana and Beverly go into the kitchen and come back out, Alana carrying a large sheet cake, and Beverly lighting candles as they walk in. The entire room sings, and Will sits there awkwardly as the cake is placed on the table in front of him. 

The singing comes to a close, and Hannibal leans in and says, “Make a wish, Will.” 

Will looks around at his friends, his _family_ , sitting and standing around him. He looks at Hannibal sitting next to him, and Abigail on the other side, both smiling wide at him. Will decides he has all he needs, so he just wishes for things to stay like this, these people in his life. Except maybe Freddie Lounds, but life comes with compromises. Everyone claps when he blows out the candles. 

Cake is served, and Hannibal tells everyone they’re allowed to go back in the living room if they want to, so everyone does. Hannibal stays to clean up some dishes, push in chairs, and put leftovers in the fridge and Will announces that he’ll help. He doesn’t actually help, and instead Will sits on a counter and watches Hannibal move around the kitchen, cleaning up, putting utensils away, and wiping down the counters. 

“How late is everyone staying?” Will asks, kicking his feet in front of him. He knows he’ll have to leave the kitchen soon, but he wants this moment with Hannibal if he can have it. 

Hannibal checks his watch. “I believe I can have everyone out of here within the hour if we play our cards right. Alana and Abigail might linger, I’m certain. Abigail has questions, we owe her answers.” 

“Right. Well, can we get Freddie out of here? I feel like she’s trying to get as much information about me as possible.” 

Hannibal laughs. “I am sorry for inviting her, but it was only right.” 

“Whatever. I’m gonna go in there. Don’t take too long in here.”

Will hops off the counter and goes back into the living room. There’s a pile of presents he hasn’t noticed before, and he figures they must have been hidden in a closet. 

“You guys didn’t have to get me anything,” he says. 

A small package is pushed into his hands by Abigail. “Yes we did. You do so much for everyone here, you sacrificed your health to keep working cases when you were sick. You risked your life saving me. Everyone else here can say something about why you deserve this, too.” 

Will pulls Abigail into a tight hug. “Thank you.”

When he releases her, he turns the package in his hand and slips his finger into the seam of the wrapping paper. Inside is a box of fish hooks.

“You promised you’d teach me how to fish, now you have enough hooks for the both of us,” Abigail smiles. 

“And I will teach you, I promise.” Will hugs her again. 

Hannibal walks into the room at that moment and lightly touches Will’s back as he walks past to go stand next to Alana. Will sees him whisper something to Alana and she nods, leaving the room for a few minutes. 

The next gift is given to him by Jack and Bella. It’s a bottle of whiskey, and Will smiles and thanks them both. 

Zeller and Price hand him an envelope together, and Price says “We went halfsies on your gift.” 

Will opens the envelope and looks inside. “Scratch offs?” 

Both men grin at Will. He expects nothing different from them. “Thanks guys.” 

Mr and Mrs Komeda bought him a watch, expensive by the looks of it. He knows it’s because he’s always lifting up Hannibal’s wrist to check the time when they’re out, and Mrs Komeda doesn’t have to tell him that’s why. Will probably won’t end up wearing it because he knows it annoys Hannibal when Will does that, and Will loves pushing Hannibal’s buttons. He thanks them, regardless and appreciates the thought, and money that went into it. 

Beverly got him a switchblade, which he opens the box and raises an eyebrow at. 

“These are illegal in Virginia,” Will says.

“Are you in Virginia right now?” Beverly counters. “Perfectly legal in Maryland. Just don’t bring it home.”

When she returns to the room, Alana presents her gift to Will. She got him a hat that says, “women want me, fish fear me,” and everyone laughs at it. Especially the ones who know Will isn’t on the market right now. She also got him a few different dog toys because she’s always saying they don’t have nearly enough. There’s a few cards handed to him by the guests he doesn’t know as well, and some gift cards to various stores he frequents. 

Finally when it’s Hannibal’s turn, Will holds his breath. Hannibal hands him an immaculately wrapped box, and whispers, “I have another gift later.” So quiet Will almost doesn’t hear it. Will opens this one and smiles when he sees the aftershave. 

Keeping it as casual as possible, he says, “You and your damn nose.” And everyone smiles, knowing Hannibal’s capable of smelling anything. No one raises an eyebrow at the gift. 

“I’m just glad I finally have an occasion where it’s appropriate for me to purchase a different one for you.” 

Will knows he’s just saying it to keep up the appearance that they aren’t a couple. Almost everyone in the room is aware at this point, save Freddie, Jack, and Bella, and Zeller and Price, but they are nearly there, just waiting on a confirmation. Will also knows it's also possible that Hannibal was actually waiting for the right occasion, after what happened with the shampoo, body wash, and conditioner. 

Hannibal didn’t lie when he said he could get everyone out within the hour. Abigail and Alana do stay after everyone else leaves, and they sit around the dining room table. 

“Will and I were considering the idea that Abigail could live with one of us and get out of the facility,” Hannibal tells Alana. 

“What happened to you being scared about too much change?” Alana questions. 

“She needs her freedom, Alana,” Will interjects. 

“Abigail’s an adult now and she’s being punished for what her father did,” Hannibal agrees. “Will and I are fully capable of offering her a stable environment, while still allowing her to be a young adult. Being around a bunch of traumatized people during all hours of the day isn’t going to help her trauma.” 

“Which one of you is she going to live with?”

“That’s still to be discussed. We just wanted to run this by you when it’s still fresh in our minds as a possibility,” Hannibal answers. 

“Abigail, what do you think of all this?”

“I think I hate Port Haven and would much prefer living with one of them,” Abigail says. “I want to get a job or go to school if I can. I want to live my life.”

“Okay. I think we can all think about this, then. You're right. I think she's been in there way too long.”

“It wouldn’t be for some time. Will and I were going to discuss our own living arrangements at a later date. I don’t want you to think this decision needs to be made now,” Hannibal says. He checks his watch. “It’s getting late. If it’s okay with you, Abigail, I think Will and I may still visit you tomorrow.”

“Yeah sounds good,” Abigail smiles. 

Abigail and Alana leave a few minutes later, Alana promising to let Will's dogs out and feed them on her way home. It’s not even 10 PM yet, and Will has no idea how Hannibal actually managed to get everyone to leave a party this early on a Saturday night. 

Finally when the house is empty besides them, Will is pushing Hannibal up against the nearest wall and kissing him aggressively. 

Will pulls away for a breath. “I am so mad at you,” Will says before crushing their lips back together. He takes another breath a second later and takes a single step back. “Seriously. A surprise party? I hate you.”

“No you don’t, you just hate surprises and parties,” Hannibal smiles, bringing his hands to cup Will’s cheeks. The next kiss is soft and gentle and Will feels like he could melt. He feels so much love coming from Hannibal and he forgets why he was even mad. He doesn't want to let Hannibal off so easily, though.

“No, I hate you,” Will insists, but it is stated weakly.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Hannibal says. He kisses Will again before picking up the smaller man and throwing him over his shoulder. Hannibal holds Will behind the knees and lets the top half of his body hang upside down behind his back. Will wraps his arms around Hannibal’s waist, looking for stability. 

“Hannibal!” Will yells. “Put me down! I can walk, you know!” 

“I know.” But Hannibal doesn’t put him down and carries Will upstairs to his bedroom, where he throws Will down on the bed on his back and climbs over him, going in for another kiss. 

Hannibal takes his time worshipping every part of Will’s body tonight, making it his mission to get his mouth on nearly every inch of skin. Will has no idea how long it goes on for, but he lets Hannibal take as much time as he wants, relishing in the way Hannibal whispers loving words against his skin. 

“You’re beautiful, Will,” he says, leaving a trail of kisses down Will’s neck.

“Don’t call me beautiful.” 

Hannibal bites down on Will’s neck, causing him to let out a yelp. “It’s the only way to properly describe someone such as you. Will you pull a knife on me if I do? Perhaps the one Miss Katz so graciously gifted you?”

Will doesn’t respond. Hannibal continues his mission.

It’s been months, but Will still never gets used to how emotional Hannibal gets when they’re in bed together. Seeing a man who’s usually so stoic, a man who would be considered a monster incapable of love by so many, look so fragile and in love, makes Will feel like he’s the most important man in the world. Maybe to Hannibal, he is. Will never feels this way when he’s with anyone else, has never been treated by a partner with so much care before. Will kisses the tears off of Hannibal’s cheeks as they fall. 

“Was birthday sex the present for later?” Will asks, now laying with his head on Hannibal’s chest.

Hannibal laughs underneath him and it shakes Will’s whole body. “No, stay here.” And he gets out of the bed, leaving Will to flop down on the mattress. Hannibal grabs his robe from the back of his bedroom door and leaves the room as Will stares after him. 

He comes back a few minutes later with something cradled in his arms. 

“You got me a blanket?” Will asks, sitting up on the bed to get a better look. Hannibal puts the object in Will’s lap, and he can’t believe what he’s seeing bundled up in a blanket in front of him. “You got me a puppy.” He’s not asking.

Hannibal smiles, hangs his robe back up on the door and climbs back into bed. 

“Hannibal, I already have six dogs.” Still, Will picks up the small sleepy yellow labrador puppy and holds him close to his chest.

“ _You_ may have six dogs, but now _we_ have one,” Hannibal says, a huge smile on his face. 

“Where did you even keep him all night? And you’re going to let him sleep here, right? And does he have a name? He’s _ours_? Is this just so I’ll agree to live with you?” Will can’t stop the questions from pouring out. He’s beyond happy, just as he is every time he brings in a stray, but this time it feels different. 

“I had him in the garage, and Alana and I both checked on him periodically. And yes, Will, he can sleep here. No name as of yet. He’s ours, and if it makes you come to a decision quicker, then yes I will admit that may be the reason,” Hannibal answers all of his questions in order. 

“You should name him,” Will whispers.

“I will think about it. Sleep for now, I will be leaving shortly.” Hannibal takes the puppy from Will’s arms and sets him on the other side of Will. Will lays down and turns to face Hannibal, the puppy pressed against his back. 

“Lay down,” Will demands. Hannibal lays on his back and Will pushes at his shoulder so he lays on his side facing away. Will scoots in close behind Hannibal, skin to skin, puts an arm around his stomach holding him tight, and whispers, “I love you,” into Hannibal’s neck. 

“I love you, too. Happy birthday, Will.”

Will has forgotten how angry he was about the surprise party, about Freddie Lounds being invited, he doesn’t even care about the creepy shrine in the basement anymore. He smiles against Hannibal’s skin as he drifts off to sleep, content with how the night turned out, satisfied that he gets to fall asleep with Hannibal in his arms, their new puppy warm against his back, sleeping soundly. 

Just like always, Will feels like he hasn’t slept at all by the time Hannibal is removing himself from Will’s embrace. He groans and tries to hold onto Hannibal tighter, but Hannibal is much stronger, and more alert. He kisses Will’s forehead, and caresses a cheek. 

“How do you feel about Michelangelo?” Hannibal asks.

“The painter or the ninja turtle?” Will asks, voice heavy with sleep. 

“A name for the dog,” Hannibal corrects.

“Mmm sure. Whatever you want,” Will mumbles. “Do you need help with anything?” He’s already falling back asleep, though, and really hopes Hannibal doesn’t need his help.

Hannibal looks down at him, smiling fondly. “Michelangelo may need to go outside. If you want to stay in bed I can take care of him.”

Will buries his face in Hannibal’s pillow. “Go ahead. I’ll be here when you get home.” 

Hannibal leans down to kiss Will’s hair, and goes to get dressed. Will feels Hannibal lift the puppy off the bed and he immediately misses the warmth against his back. 

Will drifts in and out of consciousness for the next few minutes, and feels Hannibal put the dog back down on the bed. He can tell Hannibal stops to look at him sleep for a few seconds, before walking back out of the bedroom. Michelangelo snuggles up close to Will and they fall back asleep while Hannibal’s gone.

Sometime later, Will is woken up by Hannibal opening the bedroom door and going into the bathroom. He hears the shower start running and wonders just how messy Hannibal might have gotten. Will turns onto his back, and sits up against the headboard. He lightly pets the puppy on the bed next to him and suddenly remembers the name Hannibal chose.

“Michelangelo, huh?” Will whispers to the dog. He tilts his head at Will, looking at him with big brown eyes, and Will scratches the small furry head. “I’m going to call you Mikey, then. That’ll annoy Hannibal.” 

A few minutes later, the shower stops and Hannibal pops his head out of the bathroom door. “You are awake?”

Will nods.

Hannibal stands in the door frame, drying off with a towel, which he then throws into a laundry basket.

“I believe I cut it real close timewise tonight. It should all work out, though,” Hannibal says once he’s back in bed. They lay in bed facing each other, with Michelangelo in between them. It feels much like their nights in Wolf Trap when Winston gets in between them to sleep.

“What time is it?” Will yawns.

“After 4. The crime scene is going to be found soon. When Jack calls, do not answer. You are staying in bed with me until we go see Abigail.”

“I don’t even know where my phone is. I think I left it in the living room.”

“Good.” Hannibal is yawning as he says it. Hannibal would find that rude if someone did it to him.

Will reaches out and touches Hannibal’s cheek. “You need sleep, Hannibal. Maybe we shouldn’t go see Abigail today. She’ll understand.” 

Hannibal closes his eyes in an attempt to blink, but he’s slow opening them back up. Now it’s Will’s turn to smile fondly. How he can be so in love with Hannibal right after he killed and displayed someone always baffles Will, but he doesn’t care as much anymore. Will moves Michelangelo to lay behind him and he moves closer to Hannibal, snuggling into his chest. Hannibal wraps an arm around Will and puts his face in Will’s curls, breathing in the scent. 

They fall asleep tangled together, the only sounds are their heartbeats and their breathing.

Will is woken up by the doorbell this time. He groans into Hannibal’s chest. “Who’s ringing your doorbell this early?”

“Probably the FBI.”

Will sits up. His voice is stern. “What do you mean ‘probably the FBI,’ Hannibal?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be back.” Hannibal gets out of bed and pulls on a pair of underwear from the floor, and puts on his robe, tying it tightly.

Will doesn’t stay in bed for long, because Michelangelo is running after Hannibal, and Will really needs to know what’s going on. Hannibal should know by now that saying 'don't worry' will just make Will worry more. He pulls on his own boxers, and grabs one of Hannibal’s big sweaters, pulling it over his head as he chases the puppy down the stairs.

“A list of names was found at a Ripper scene this morning, Doctor Lecter. It was the people Miriam Lass was investigating when she went missing. You’re the first name on the list,” Jack Crawford’s voice comes from the foyer. “Sorry when did you get a dog? Nope, not important. I need to ask you about your whereabouts last night.”

“I’ve been here all night, Jack,” Hannibal says. Will stands in the hallway around the corner, listening carefully. 

“Can anyone else confirm that?” Jack asks. 

“I can. I’ve been with Hannibal all night, Jack.” Will steps into the foyer, and Jack’s eyes go wide.

“You what?” Jack looks between the two men. Will can tell he sees the bruising on Will’s neck, the sweater that is too big, both of their states of undress. The small puppy running in circles around their feet, making barking noises, demanding attention, probably helps drive the point home, too. Jack knows about their relationship now. Will realizes then that this has been part of Hannibal’s plan all along. Jack didn’t know, because Jack finding out had to happen at a time like this, where the surprise would make it impossible to suspect Will as an accomplice, as well. “You two? Wow.” His voice is full of disbelief. Jack rubs his hands over his face. “I did not see that one coming. How long?”

Will ignores Jack’s question. “Is Hannibal a suspect?”

“I, uh, I-” Jack stammers. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “We’re checking in on every person on that list. I have agents on their ways already, but Doctor Lecter was first on the list, and fits the profile, so I came here first,” Jack explains. “Will, I tried calling you.”

“I lost my phone somewhere between the party and the bedroom last night. Sorry, Jack. I wasn’t planning on being called in on a Sunday right after my birthday,” Will shrugs. He moves to stand next to Hannibal, placing a hand on his back. “If that’ll be all, Jack? If you need me at the scene, I’ll come, but I’d like to spend my Sunday morning in bed.”

Jack’s about to say something when his phone rings in his pocket. He pulls it out and answers. “Hello? … Yeah, I can be there … Really?” There’s shock in his voice and across his face. Will has a feeling he was just told about the shrine. “… Okay.” He hangs up and looks at Will. “I think we’ve got the Ripper. There’s something you’re going to want to see.”

“I’m going to need to get dressed first, if that’s alright?”

“Hurry. Actually, I’ll text Hannibal the address. Seeing as you lost your phone. Meet us there, I don’t have time to wait for you. You can both come.”

Jack lets himself out of Hannibal’s front door in a hurry. Will turns his head to look at Hannibal, raising an eyebrow. Hannibal doesn’t look at him, but there’s a grin spreading across his face. When he’s certain Jack has left, he turns to Will. “Are you ready to meet the Chesapeake Ripper?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope u liked this chapter. I thought it was cute and also I really wanted to add that scene from the show where Jack shows up but its Will instead of Alana. Please comment <3


	7. Chapter 7

It takes them a lot longer than Jack was probably hoping for. Both of them need a shower, Hannibal still not fully satisfied with the way he smells after the previous night, and he refuses to let Will not shower too. They shower together for the sake of saving time, but Hannibal insists on washing Will’s hair properly, because he knows Will never does so himself, and Hannibal is nothing if not thorough so it takes longer than they really have. Then Hannibal fusses over what he’s going to wear for such an occasion as seeing if his hard work over the last few days paid off. Will finally chooses for him, making him put on the most casual pants and button down shirt he owns.

When they’re both dressed, Hannibal insists on breakfast, and Will agrees because there’s no way out of it. They make it quick, but probably still not quick enough. Will lets Michelangelo outside, then they put him in one of the bathrooms with blankets and food and water so he doesn’t pee on all of Hannibal’s furniture while they’re gone.

“Hey, call my phone. I have no idea where I left it.”

So Hannibal calls it and they listen to try and hear it ring, but they don't. Hannibal holds his own phone in his hand, on speaker. They listen to the rings and Will thinks his phone is going to voicemail, but the woman’s voice that answers is not the usual robotic one.

“Will should really learn not to leave his phone laying around at a party,” Freddie Lounds says when she answers. “Doctor Lecter, how surprised I am that you’re the one calling so early.”

“Miss Lounds, it is extremely rude to steal someone’s personal belongings at their own party,” Hannibal says. “And illegal, as well.”

“Freddie why do you have my phone?” Will growls. 

“Oh, Will Graham! So my suspicions were correct then.”

“And what were your suspicions?” Hannibal asks. Will is beyond annoyed. He wants to rip Freddie’s throat out, and then Hannibal’s for being the one to invite her to the party. 

“I can see the headlines now, ‘FBI’s Pet Psycho is Sleeping With His Shrink to Pass the Psych Eval.’ Oh boy Jack Crawford is going to have a field day when he finds this one out,” Freddie says.

“Jack already knows about us, so good luck with that one,” Will says. “Don’t you have better things to do today than pry into my personal relationships and look through my cell phone? Did you not snoop around the Ripper scene before authorities showed up? Leave my phone in the potted plant outside Hannibal’s front door, and stay out of my life, Freddie.”

Will hangs up Hannibal’s phone and looks at the man next to him. Will’s anger is bubbling over the surface and he has no control over his words. “I’m going to kill her. I’m going to. I’m going to rip her stupid hair from her head. Maybe I’ll cut out her tongue for always running her mouth, and then I’m going to kill her.”

“Oh, Will,” Hannibal smiles fondly. “As much as I would love to see you do that, you are much too connected to Miss Lounds in a negative way. It would be too obvious.”

It dawns on Will what exactly he had said to Hannibal, and a wave of guilt washes over him. Not because he wants to kill her, but because he doesn’t feel bad about wanting to kill her. He’s feeling guilty over a lack of guilty feelings. 

“Hannibal, I don’t have a lock on my phone. You haven’t said anything incriminating over text, have you? Because if this is what fucks things up, we have to kill her before she can say anything to anyone.”

“I’m not that reckless, Will. Call Jack and tell him what has happened, and that we are running late because of it.” Hannibal pushes his own phone into Will’s hands and Will does what he’s told as they’re walking out to Will’s car in the driveway.

Hannibal takes Will’s keys from him, and says, “I’ll drive.” Will just nods and gets into the passenger seat, waiting for Jack to answer.

“Where are you guys?” Jack asks through the phone. He sounds much more polite than he usually does when he asks the question and Will realizes it’s because Jack thinks Hannibal’s the one calling.

“Hey, it’s Will. We just had a lovely conversation with Freddie Lounds. I found out where my phone went, turns out she stole it last night. That’s why we’re running behind.”

“Jesus, that woman needs to be arrested,” Jack sighs. “Okay, well we have Chilton getting processed right now. He’s apparently screaming his head off about this being a mistake. I’m still at his house, and it certainly doesn’t look like a mistake. Wait until you see this, Will.”

“We’re leaving Hannibal’s now. See you soon.” Will hangs up. He takes a deep breath, and then yells, “Chilton?!” Hannibal just keeps his eyes on the road ahead, and smiles. “It’s hard enough pretending you’re not the Ripper, but pretending  _ Chilton _ is?

“You hardly have to pretend anything. Just go in there, look at whatever Jack shows you, and become visibly uncomfortable with it. Jack will excuse you as quickly as he can.”

Will huffs in response. Soon after, they’re pulling into Chilton’s neighborhood and Will sees police officers and FBI agents running in and out of the house, there are bodies being pulled out in body bags. “How many are in there?” Will asks.

“I believe I left four whole. A few I killed before he left on his trip, and one from last night.”

“And how many not whole?” 

Hannibal grins. “I had to give up a lot of good meat to fill his freezer. I’m not particularly happy about it.”

“Jesus Christ, Hannibal.”

Hannibal just winks at him and parks Will’s car in the street outside the house. There are neighbors trying to see what’s going on from outside police barricades, and Hannibal and Will have to push through the civilians to get past. They’re stopped by an officer, and Will realizes he doesn’t have his FBI badge on him. 

“They’re with me!” Jack calls from the front door. The officer lets them past. “Will, I need you to prepare yourself for this. It seems Freddie might have been right about you being in danger.”

Will nods, trying to show his best worried face. Hannibal puts a hand on his back in an attempt to look like he’s comforting Will. 

“So, we found a display this morning. Undeniably the Ripper. You already know we found a list of names. We think Chilton’s been holding onto it as a type of trophy and it slipped out of his pocket last night at the scene. As you know I got the call saying they found something here. Well, there was a trail of blood leading to the front door, and Chilton answered with a knife still in his hand,” Jack briefs them. “We found several bodies, including parts from the one he displayed last night. There’s parts from the last six Ripper victims in his freezer, as well as several other unidentified organs. That’s not all.”

Jack leads them through the house to a cellar door. They walk past several agents carrying items up the stairs. Medical instruments, coolers, an entire box of human bones, stacks of books on human anatomy and forensics. Will wills himself not to glare at Hannibal and give them both away. Jack stops in the cellar in front of the wooden armoire from Hannibal’s basement. He hands Will and Hannibal both a pair of gloves and opens the doors.

“Wh-what is this?” Will stutters out. He does his best to sound shocked, and Hannibal’s hand brushes his back to praise him for his performance.

“Chilton built a shrine. Pictures of you, your dogs, your house. All these articles. That badge you reported missing. That’s not all though. Take a look at this,” Jack says, handing Will a digital camera. Will presses the button, looking through each picture. There are several photos of his house that Hannibal must have taken in the middle of the night, all dated last night. Going further back, there are a few of him running around in the yard with his dogs. Will realizes those were taken yesterday before he got dressed for the party. Hannibal had been outside his house the previous day and Will hadn’t even noticed him. Jack and Hannibal watch the photos go by over Will’s shoulder.

There’s a picture of Hannibal and Will sleeping in his bed in Wolf Trap. Hannibal must have used a self timer on the camera. Will attempts his best performance then, and drops the camera in shock. “H-he was in my house? Watching us sleep? I…” Will quickens his breathing. “How did we not? Hannibal, he could’ve… the dogs didn’t even… Oh my God.” 

Will turns around to look at Hannibal, and Hannibal wraps him up in his arms. Will pretends to sob into his chest. “It’s okay. He can’t hurt us, now, dear Will.” Hannibal looks over at Jack Crawford. “I’m going to take him back to the car. I believe we could both use a minute.”

“Please, take him home, Doctor Lecter. This is probably very hard to process.”

Hannibal nods and Will makes his best attempt to look like he’s trying to pull himself together, then pulls himself out of Hannibal’s arms and rubs his eyes. He takes a shaky breath. 

“No, no I can… I can stay if you need me,” Will tries. 

“No, go home. We can handle it, Will. We’re going to have Miriam confirm it’s him later if you want to be there. I managed to talk to her, and she said she never saw the Ripper’s face, but had heard his voice. We’re going to have her identify him,” Jack explains. 

“No, I don’t think I want to be there for it,” Will shakes his head. “I… Yeah, I’m going home.”

“Take care. Both of you,” Jack says. Hannibal and Will lead themselves back out of the house and past the neighbors, who all yell at them asking for information. Will keeps the appearance that he’s shook up until they’re in the car and out of the neighborhood, away from cameras and police.

“You did magnificent back there, love,” Hannibal smiles. He lifts one hand off the steering wheel and pulls one of Will’s into it. Hannibal gives his hand a squeeze and holds tight. 

“Nice touch with the photo of us sleeping. Camera timer?”

“And a tripod, yes. It was quite difficult not waking you during that one. I was sure shifting the mattress would wake you up and ruin the photo,” Hannibal says. 

Will starts laughing and he can’t stop. Hannibal raises a brow at him, but doesn’t say anything. 

“This is so fucked,” Will manages to get out. “This is absolutely so fucked up, Hannibal.”

Hannibal makes a noise about Will’s swearing, like he tends to do, but he doesn’t say anything. Neither say another word for the rest of the drive back to Hannibal’s house. When they get there Freddie Lounds is standing on the front step and Will can feel his anger physically rising inside him.

“Will,” Hannibal warns. “I am telling you not to do whatever you want to do.”

Will is already unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out of the car, briskly walking towards Freddie Lounds. “Give me my phone,” he growls, stopping to stand in front of her. She opens her handbag and hands him the cell phone. “Now I suggest you get off Hannibal’s property before I do something I’ll regret.” 

“You know, Will, I had no idea you were gay,” Freddie says, not moving from where she stands in front of the door. Will considers pushing her out of the way, but he feels a hand on his shoulder. Hannibal’s hand is firm, and it speaks all the words Hannibal can’t say.  _ You’re above this. You’ll be the number one suspect if you kill her. _

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m bisexual, so if you print anything, at least get that right. Now please, leave,” Will says. He closes his eyes and takes a breath. “The Chesapeake Ripper was caught today. If you want to know anything else about me and my relationship, go through his stuff because apparently he was stalking me. You were right, Freddie.”

Will hopes the information is enticing enough for her to go investigate herself, and that the admission of her being correct will be enough for her to stop tormenting Will until he doesn’t want to kill her anymore. 

“Miss Lounds, I must insist you get off my property before I call the police on you for theft and trespassing,” Hannibal says smoothly. He’s too calm for Will’s liking, but then he always is. Freddie must see something in Hannibal’s face, or hear something in his voice, that Will doesn’t, because then Freddie is stepping around both of them and practically jogging to her car.

Hannibal opens his front door with Will’s key, and grabs Will by the hand and pulls him into the foyer. He closes the door and locks it again.

“Hannibal, I really think we should kill her.”

“Will, if you want to kill someone I have an entire rolodex of worthy people, but Freddie Lounds is not currently an option.” Hannibal is holding Will’s upper arms, keeping him in place and from running out the door after Freddie. Will knows there’s no defying Hannibal in this situation. His eyes are staring daggers into Will’s, as if daring him to try. 

“The people in your rolodex have never done anything to me. I can’t just kill someone for no reason,” Will says. 

“Can’t you? I’m certain you never thought you’d lie to Jack Crawford about the identity of a serial killer, but you’ve been doing that for months.” Will tries to look away from Hannibal, but Hannibal grabs him by the jaw and pulls his face back. He doesn’t let go as he continues to speak. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you,” he warns. “You put on quite a performance today, and I know you never thought you’d do what you have done. So, Will, what is stopping you from picking a name from my selection and killing them yourself? Surely by allowing me to walk free, you are indirectly killing any person I choose myself.” 

“It’s not-”

“It’s not the same? I may not kill as the Ripper again, but I will still kill, Will. You are responsible for every death since you found out, and will be for each one from now on. So what is the difference?”

Will tries to pull himself out of Hannibal’s grip, but the hand on his face, and the other on his arm tighten. 

“Why don’t you call Jack Crawford right now and tell him you know? If you don’t want those people to die, you should turn me in.”

“Stop.” Will growls. “Let go of me. This is not how this relationship works, Hannibal.” Hannibal’s grip loosens, but he doesn’t remove his hands. He’s touching Will light enough that Will could move if he wants to, but he doesn’t. Will keeps his voice firm and steady. “You do not get to use your strength against me to try and talk me into killing someone. I've let you get away with a lot of fucked up shit, Hannibal, but you do not get to place the blame on me like that. And you don’t get to turn around and say I should turn you in just so more people don’t die. Do not hold that over my head.” 

“Will.” There are tears forming in his eyes. Will doesn’t know if they’re real or if Hannibal is just trying to make him feel guilty. He doesn’t let Hannibal say whatever he’s about to say. 

“No, Hannibal. You’re a manipulative piece of shit, and you can be that way with anyone, and everyone. Just not me.” Will moves away from Hannibal, picks up his keys from where Hannibal put them on a table by the door. He gathers his things, picks up Michelangelo, and walks back to where Hannibal is standing. Hannibal has not moved.

“I’m going home. I’m pissed at you, but I still love you. I just need some space.” Puppy in one hand, a bag of some of his belongings in the other, he struggles to open the front door, but he makes it work. 

“Will?” 

Will turns around and looks at Hannibal.

“I’m sorry. Please stay,” Hannibal whispers. Will can feel Hannibal’s emotions. Hannibal doesn’t let his walls down often, but now Will can feel everything Hannibal is feeling. He didn’t think the man was capable of remorse, but Will can feel it clear as day. This doesn’t help Will’s anger, though. In fact, Hannibal using this moment to take advantage of Will’s empathy just makes him even more mad.

“I have to take care of the dogs. Call Abigail and tell her we’ll be by another day. I really need time to myself, Hannibal.” Will turns back to the door. “I’ll call you later,” he says, not looking at Hannibal. He leaves then, puts Michelangelo in the passenger seat, and drives home to Wolf Trap. 

He stops at a pet shop on the way, and brings Michelangelo in cradled in one arm like a baby. He pushes a cart with the other hand. Women stop and baby talk to the dog, and then give Will flirtatious smiles. He ignores them, and picks up puppy food. Usually he’ll make the dog’s food, but he’s never had one this young before and doesn’t want to mess anything up. He chooses a plaid collar, and a paisley leash and realizes Hannibal’s horrible fashion is rubbing off on him. He decides to put a small dog bed in the cart too, then plops Michelangelo down on top of it. The lab stands on his hind legs with his front paws on the edge of the cart, looking around as they pass other dogs, and lots of toys. Will pays for everything, then goes to the kiosk to make a tag for the collar. 

Will types in Michelangelo’s name, as well as his own and his phone number, and then sighs and adds Hannibal’s name and phone number as well. The machine does its thing and Will attaches the tag to the collar and puts the collar and leash on the pup, and he lets him walk out of the store.

Will stops for fast food because he’s mad at Hannibal, and it would kill Hannibal to know what he’s eating. 

He sees the dogs in the yard first, then he sees the Bentley parked next to his house. When he finally sees Hannibal standing on his porch, he feels nothing but rage. He lets Michelangelo out of the car to meet the others, and walks up to the house, trying to stay calm. Hannibal just watches him, an eyebrow raised to see what he does. This makes Will even more angry.

He surges forward, low, wrapping his arms around Hannibal’s waist and tackling him down to the wooden planks of the porch. Hannibal goes down with ease, and barely braces for the fall. Will is extremely glad he put Beverly’s switchblade in his pocket, and with his knees on each side of Hannibal’s hips, he pulls it out, presses the button so the blade pops out, and holds it to Hannibal’s neck.

The blade is sharper than he expected and it manages to cut through Hannibal’s skin, not deep enough to cause real damage, but enough that the skin breaks and blood starts flowing. Will pulls back just enough that it’s still a threat, but isn’t actually harming Hannibal anymore. 

“Before you kill me, I believe you will want to hear what I have to say,” Hannibal says. Will hates how calm his voice is, how his breathing hasn’t quickened, nor has his heart rate. Will sits back on his heels and lets the knife fall to the ground beside him, still in reach and waits for Hannibal to continue. “Jack called me shortly after you left because he wasn’t sure if you had your phone yet. I said I would pass on the message.” Hannibal pauses. He looks up at Will, and Will holds eye contact while Hannibal smiles wide. “Chilton is dead.”

Will waits for Hannibal to say he is just kidding, but when he doesn’t, Will says, “What do you mean? How?”

“Miss Lass identified him, lost control, grabbed Jack’s gun and shot Chilton through the glass. It was a fatal shot,” Hannibal explains.

“Did you know this would happen?” Will is standing up, picking up the knife and closing it. He holds a hand out for Hannibal, who takes it and lets Will pull him to his feet.

“I had hoped, but had Chilton gone to trial, there was enough evidence against him,” Hannibal shrugs. “This makes it easier on us. The Ripper is dead.”

“Just like that, huh?” Will opens the front door, and the dogs all come running in without needing to be called. Will feels bad for being gone for so long without feeding them. He looks at Hannibal over his shoulder. “You can come in. I’m still mad at you, though.”

“I didn’t expect anything different.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for killing Chilton. No I'm not. Please comment and leave kudos :) I love all of your comments, I'm just terrible at thinking of responses so that's why I don't reply to many. They all mean the world to me, though.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A longer chapter! Warning for violence and death at the end. It's a fairly minor character from the show, but I just want y'all to proceed with caution.

Once the dogs are fed and Will has put his things away, and Hannibal has looked at the cut on his neck, Will sits down at the kitchen table and gestures for Hannibal to join him. Hannibal takes the seat across from Will hesitantly, as if he’s scared Will is going to pull out another knife once his defenses are down. Will just slumps in the wooden kitchen chair, and taps his fingers on the table in front of him, trying to gather his thoughts.

Hannibal opens his mouth to say something, but Will holds up a hand to silence him. “I’m talking first, and you can say anything you want when I’m done. Just give me a minute.” Will gets up and grabs a beer from the fridge. He offers one to Hannibal, but it’s declined. Will knew it would be. Will drinks half the bottle before even stepping away from the fridge. 

A thousand different thoughts go through his mind while he tries to come up with the one to start with. Will takes his seat again, and reaches across the table for one of Hannibal’s hands, taking it into his own. 

“I shouldn’t have left your house mad at you like that, and maybe we should’ve talked like adults, but we can do that now,” Will says, looking down at the table. He’s not ready to look Hannibal in the eye right now. Hannibal’s thumb is rubbing circles over the top of Will’s hand, letting him know it’s going to be okay.

Will continues, “I never want you to hold the lives you take over my head ever again. That is non-negotiable and not something I will ever be happy with you doing. I struggle enough with letting you walk free, Hannibal. At this point, there’s no way I can let you go, so I would prefer you stop reminding me what I’m responsible for by letting you keep your freedom. Make it easier on me. Please.”

Hannibal nods. His eyes are staring at their conjoined hands. 

“You also need to remember that you have the upperhand here. You’ve made a career out of manipulation, you’re physically stronger than me and I am constantly aware that you could kill me at any moment and no one would know who did it. Don’t take advantage of those things again.”

“Are you scared of me, Will?” Hannibal still doesn’t look up. His voice is quiet, his concern is genuine. 

Will sighs. “It’s not that I’m scared of you, it’s that I’m just… very aware of how dangerous you are. I like to believe that I trust you, but what you pulled in your foyer didn’t do you any favors.”

“I see.” 

“The thing is, Hannibal, you never lose control. You never raise your voice. Sometimes I wish you would because then I would at least know something’s going to happen. You stay too calm, it can get scary. When I tried to pull free, and your grip tightened. I didn’t know what was going to happen next.”

Hannibal nods again. “I’m sorry.”

Will just keeps going. “And when I say I need space, please give it to me. Don’t show up at my house to tell me something that you could’ve just called about.”

“Do you want me to leave?” 

“No.” Will looks up and Hannibal’s eyes meet his for the first time since they sat down. “I don’t want to be angry with you. I do want to ask you some things, but not right now. I think the dogs would enjoy a walk, and then you can make dinner.”

Will has a lot of questions. He knows it would be best to get everything out in the open, lay down everything they expect of each other, but the idea of doing that right this second doesn’t interest him. 

“It’s still quite early.” 

“We can take a nap after we take the dogs out. You haven’t slept this weekend.” Will is standing up and moving to the door to put on better shoes for walking through the muddy fields. He looks at Hannibal’s shoes and grabs another pair for him.

“I have slept,” Hannibal protests. He follows Will to the door and changes his shoes.

“Not enough.” 

Hannibal doesn’t disagree, and Will calls the dogs, who come running. Michelangelo seems to be getting along well with the other dogs, and Winston has especially taken a liking to him, not leaving his side the entire walk. 

Will walks next to Hannibal and watches the dogs run in circles around them. He picks up sticks and throws them to be fetched as they walk through the fields by his house. Hannibal is tense next to him, keeping a safe distance between them. Will reaches out and pulls their hands together and Hannibal relaxes, closing in the space between them as they hold hands. 

“I said I don’t want to be mad at you,” Will reminds him. “Don’t shy away from me.” 

“Your rapidly changing emotions toward me leave me with a bit of uncertainty at times,” Hannibal says. “I never know if I am about to overstep a boundary.” 

“Then that’s something I need to work on. Neither of us are perfect,” Will shrugs. “If I’m allowed to tell you what’s wrong with you, I expect you to return the favor if we want this to work.” 

Hannibal nods, but doesn’t say anything else. Will can feel how tired the man is, how hard he’s trying not to let it show. Will has other things to talk about, but they’ll need to wait until Hannibal has at least attempted to sleep. 

He goes for an easier conversation. “I put your name and phone number on Michelangelo’s tag. Under mine.”

“Did you?” Hannibal raises an eyebrow. 

“Yes. He’s ours,” Will smiles. 

“Have you thought any more about us living together?” 

“No, I haven’t. We can talk about it later. Let’s go back.” Will whistles for the dogs to turn around and they all head back to his house. He lets go of Hannibal’s hand to wipe down everyone’s paws and open the front door to let them all in. Worn out, they all go to lay in their beds except for Winston and Michelangelo who stay by Will’s side. 

Neither man says another word while Will brings them over to the bed. He pulls a pair of pajamas pants and a sweater out of his drawer and hands them to Hannibal, before he removes his own clothes until he’s just in his boxers. Hannibal changes and they both get into the bed, Winston jumping up to get in between them. Michelangelo struggles to pull himself up, so Will reaches down and picks him up, putting him on Hannibal’s chest.

When they finally wake up, it’s to dogs nosing at their faces, ready for dinner. Will gets up and puts on his clothes from earlier. He puts food in each of the dogs’ bowls and refills their water. 

“Are you staying tonight?” Will calls from the kitchen. He stands in the doorway, watching Hannibal. 

Hannibal sits up in the bed and stretches. He still looks exhausted. “I shouldn’t.” 

“But do you want to?”

“Yes. I do,” Hannibal says with no hesitation. 

“Then stay. Let’s both call in tomorrow. We just found out the Chesapeake Ripper was inside my home watching us sleep. We’re traumatized, right?” 

Hannibal hums in agreement, a smile forming. “We should go on a vacation. I believe we deserve it. Perhaps because we need a getaway from the house he desecrated. Italy? I would love to show you Florence. Or France?” 

“Let’s not push it,” Will laughs. Hannibal smiles in return. “I’m cancelling my classes for tomorrow. Cancel your appointments.”

Hannibal shakes his head. “You know I can’t do that. My twenty-four hour cancellation policy works both ways.”

“Make an exception.” He won’t take no for an answer. “Call them right now while I make dinner.”

“I thought I was cooking tonight?” 

“I changed my mind. Call your patients.” 

So Hannibal calls his patients while Will goes back in the kitchen to start dinner. After Hannibal finishes apologizing to the last patient for such short notice, he comes up behind Will and puts his chin on his shoulder, wrapping arms around his waist. Will tenses for just a second, but it’s enough for Hannibal to notice. He goes to let go, step away, say sorry, but Will grabs one of his wrists and keeps him in place.

“It’s not you, I was just inside my head,” Will assures him. “Forgot you were here for a minute.” 

Hannibal places a kiss on Will’s neck, just below his ear. “What’s on your mind, Will?”

“I have a lot of questions, but I don’t know if I actually want the answers,” Will whispers. He goes back to seasoning the fish on the counter in front of him. 

“I will answer any questions you have and I will stop when you’ve had enough.”

Will nods. “Maybe after dinner.”

He wants to ask what Hannibal had planned to do with him before they realized their feelings for each other. He wants to ask how Hannibal planned on turning him into a killer. He wants to ask what the reasoning for letting his brain turn to soup in his skull was. He wants to ask all of it. But he doesn’t want to know any of it. 

Even after dinner, Will doesn’t ask. He works on training Michelangelo with basic commands, rewarding him each time he sits. Hannibal watches, a fond smile on his face while Will sits on the floor with the puppy, trying to get him to shake his hand. Winston and Buster show the puppy how to do it, but Michelangelo just sits with his head cocked to one side in confusion. Will holds out his hand again and all he gets is a tongue to his palm. He gives him a treat anyways. 

Will takes the dogs out one last time before bed and when he comes back inside, Hannibal is dozing in his chair. Will doesn’t want to disturb the much needed sleep, but he knows sleeping in that chair will just make Hannibal sore in the morning. Will puts a hand on Hannibal’s shoulder, a light touch that still manages to cause Hannibal to stir.

“Come to bed,” Will whispers. He pulls Hannibal up by a hand and guides him to the bed. 

They lay down, Hannibal pressed against Will’s back, an arm around his torso. Hannibal breathes in, nose pressed to Will’s hair. Will wants to ask Hannibal all of his questions, wants to just get it over with, find out everything, but he can’t bring himself to ask. He starts to think of the idea of them living together, but he can’t get past how soon it is. _What if this doesn’t work out?_ But he knows deep down that if it doesn’t, he’s not likely to get out alive. 

“Stop thinking,” Hannibal whispers into Will’s neck. 

“I can’t just shut it off, Hannibal.” 

“Ask me your questions.” 

Will shakes his head.

“If you won’t ask what you want to know, I will tell you what I want you to know instead. I have an idea of what you’re going to ask. It was only a matter of time.” 

Will takes a deep breath. “Okay.”

“There was a time when I did wish to cause you harm, both psychological and physical. I was going to make you think you were Hobbs’s Copycat, and I was going to frame you for those murders.” Hannibal’s arm tightens around Will. The grip is not threatening this time, but an anchor to keep Will in the moment. “I was going to fake Abigail’s death and I wanted to make you believe she died by your hand. That was my plan for you.”

“When did you stop wanting that?” Will’s voice is quiet. He wants to get out of the bed, he wants to yell and scream, and demand how Hannibal could think that would solve anything, but he doesn’t.

“Before I asked you to come to the opera with me, I was dead set on it. When we began our arrangement, I was on the proverbial fence about it. Each day we grew closer, I realized my feelings for you may be reciprocated and I began to lean further over that fence. The moment you showed up on my doorstep after kissing Alana, that’s when I decided. I wanted to be with you more than I cared about turning you into a killer.”

Will rolls over to face Hannibal. He presses a soft kiss to his lips, then tucks his head into Hannibal’s chest and holds onto his shirt.

“I no longer want to hurt you at all, Will.” Hannibal rubs his hand up and down Will’s back. “I’m sorry for what happened today. I lost sight of my priorities and wanted to push you into taking a life that didn’t deserve it by your criteria. When you left my house, I did not want to let you go. I should have respected your wishes to be left alone, but I couldn’t. I hope you can forgive me.”

“I do. It’s okay.”

“It is not. I don’t want you to fear me, not ever. We’re supposed to be equals, but I took advantage of an inequality between us. You have protected me and my life in ways I wouldn’t dare ask, but I have failed to protect you from myself.”

Will doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even know what could possibly be said to that. 

“When did you realize you love me?” Will says instead. 

“I was captivated by you the moment I met you in Jack Crawford’s office. You are terribly rude, and had anyone else spoken to me the way you did when you realized I was building a profile on you, they would have been dinner. You were different,” Hannibal pauses. He corrects himself. “You are different. Seeing you shoot Garret Jacob Hobbs was when I realized just how different. Every moment after that, I knew it even more.”

Will jumps in when Hannibal pauses. “I already know I’m different, or I wouldn’t be here right now. Answer the question. When did you really realize you love me?” 

“Sometime before I left the heart display. I don’t know when exactly, but as I was manipulating the corpse, it was all I could think about. My love for you dominated that scene.”

“I could feel it.” 

“Why ask then?” 

“I wanted to hear it from you, not from my brain’s fabricated idea of who you are.” 

Hannibal brings a hand to Will’s chin, pulling him up to look at him. Hannibal kisses him and moves his hand to cup Will’s cheek. The kisses are lazy, languid movements, both men too tired to initiate anything further. Will finally pulls back after a few minutes.

“I still want to kill Freddie. Would you help me if I did?” 

“Of course, my love. I advise against it, but I would do anything you asked me to if you did.” Hannibal rubs his thumb over Will’s cheek and Will leans up into the touch. 

“Maybe I won’t do it. I don’t know if I’d be able to kill someone who isn’t a direct threat to me or someone I love.”

“I will keep that in mind.”

Will pushes himself up on his hands and looks at Hannibal, confusion across his face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Hannibal just shrugs. Will doesn’t push it, but he really does not like the sound of that. Hannibal must have more planned, more surprises. Will figures he’ll find out soon enough, but he’s too tired to worry about it now. The last few days have felt like a week, and with the party, a new puppy, pretending for Jack Crawford, and fighting and making up with Hannibal, he just wants to sleep. He lays back down, turning away from Hannibal this time. 

Will has to grab Hannibal’s arm and pull it back around him. He can sense the hesitancy from Hannibal about touching him. “I’m not mad at you, that’s not why I turned away.”

Hannibal inhales the scent of Will’s hair again and hums in response.

They fall asleep just like that. 

-

In the morning, Will wakes up long after he usually would have on a Monday morning. It’s to the sound of his phone ringing on the nightstand. 

“You cancelled your classes,” Hannibal mumbles into the back of Will’s neck.

“But that doesn’t stop Jack from calling about crime scenes,” Will says. He sits up and reaches for his phone. “Hello?”

“Will. It’s Jack. Where are you?”

“Cancelled my lectures for today. Not feeling well.” 

“Well do you feel well enough to come in and look at a few things?” Jack’s voice is hopeful. 

“Ripper stuff?” Will yawns.

“Yeah, Ripper stuff.”

“What’s the point? He’s dead.” 

“There’s something not quite adding up. I know the evidence was all there, and Miriam, well...” Jack trails off. “Anyways, I want you to take a look at the evidence. It doesn’t make sense to me why he’d get this sloppy after so long.”

“Jack, I’m sorry. If the sloppiness is the only thing that makes you reconsider, I can’t help you. I saw his house. I saw… the…” Will takes a shaky breath, putting on the performance once again. Hannibal squeezes his free hand and smiles. “I can’t. I got too close, and I could’ve been next. He could’ve hurt me, or my dogs, or Hannibal. I can’t keep thinking about it. If you have something else for me, call me, but I’m done with the Ripper. I suggest you let it go, too.” 

“Fine. By the way, we found where the rest of those bodies from the river were hidden. You were right about the color palette. Had them all sewed together in a grain silo. We think the body in the center was the killer himself,” Jack tells him.

“You think he had a partner?” 

“Not quite. His leg was cut off, too. Knee down. Get this. Found the leg in Chilton’s house. It matched up. Open and shut.” 

“Didn’t even need me.” 

“You helped arrange those photos. Anyways I should go. Hope you feel better.” 

Will can tell Jack knows he’s lying about being unwell, but he’s grateful Jack doesn’t try pushing it any further. 

“Thanks. Bye Jack.” Will hangs up. He turns to Hannibal who is sitting up in bed beside him. “How’d you find that grain silo?”

“Jack asked me to take a look at a body found earlier in the week. It had smelled of wheat. As you already know, I had a very busy weekend. I told Jack about my suspicions of a grain silo at your party. They must have found it this morning.”

“So not only did you stay up all night building a shrine for me, drive to and from Wolf Trap to take pictures of my house, but you also happened to subdue Chilton, and find this grain silo, kill the creator, sew him in and take his leg? All while planning a surprise party for me. You have to teach me your time management skills. Did you sleep at all this weekend besides the couple hours Saturday night?”

“My body is accustomed to very little sleep,” Hannibal shrugs. 

“Well, apparently not because you slept like the dead last night. You’re still tired, aren’t you?”

“I’m fine.” Hannibal stifles a yawn as he says it. 

“Go back to sleep. I’ll take care of the dogs and then come back.”

Will lets the dogs out to run around in the yard, and fills up their bowls with food. He pours himself a bowl of cereal and eats it while he stands at the door waiting for the dogs to come back to be let in. When he crawls back into bed with Hannibal, he’s greeted with an inhale through his nose, and then a disgusted look.

“Sugary cereal? I would have cooked you something had I known you were hungry,” Hannibal says. 

“Cereal’s good,” Will shrugs. 

Hannibal just shakes his head with a smile on his face. They lounge in bed for the rest of the day. Hannibal cooks dinner, then leaves Will’s house with a kiss goodbye. 

The rest of the week is uneventful, no new bodies or crime scenes for Will to look at, no more surprises from Hannibal, or anyone else for that matter. Will spends his evenings training Michelangelo, talking to Hannibal on the phone about their days, eating sandwiches leaning over the sink. On Friday Hannibal comes over, and doesn’t leave in the middle of the night for once. On Saturday they go to some event at some museum Will didn’t bother learning the names of. Hannibal parades him around on his arm, and Will lets him. He makes the right conversation at the appropriate times, smiles when he meets someone new, or someone makes a joke that wasn’t all that funny.

What Hannibal said, though, weighs on his mind the entire week. When he’s on the floor with the dogs, when he’s in the kitchen, when he’s in bed with Hannibal sleeping next to him. He doesn’t know what Hannibal meant by keeping what Will said in mind. Will wants to ask, but he knows there won’t be an answer. Hannibal will act like he didn’t even say anything, or that Will is reading too much into it. Will knows, though. Another surprise has to be right around the corner. 

\--

It’s not until over a month later, when the thought has become nearly obsolete in his mind, when the surprise comes. After this long, Will had figured Hannibal really didn’t mean anything by it and he had let it go. So when someone comes knocking on his front door, late at night on a Wednesday night, Will just looks at him confused. 

“Do I know you?” Will asks. 

The man shoves forward past Will, into his house. The dogs start to growl, and Will realizes he’s in danger just before the knife slides out of the man’s sleeve and into his hand. Will takes a good look at the man in front of him. Younger, dark hair, similar height. Will thinks he could easily take this man down if needed. 

“No, but we have a mutual acquaintance, and I know you, Will Graham,” the man says, circling around Will as if he’s a lion stalking its prey. 

Will glances at the blade in the man’s hand and slowly moves away from the front door, still facing the man in front of him, eyes flickering between face and knife. 

“And what’s your name?” Will grasps in the air behind his back, looking for something he can use as a weapon. He needs a distraction, or to knock the man out, or do _something_. Calling the police isn't an option, they wouldn’t make it in time. Will wouldn’t be able to flee the scene in his car, not with the dogs, and he’s not leaving them behind for someone sent here to harm him.

“That’s not important. It’s not as if you’ll be alive much longer, anyways.” 

Will keeps him talking while he moves backwards through the room, towards the table where he has Bev’s switchblade sitting. “Why do you want to kill me? Did someone send you?”

“Can I not come to finish the job my employer so clearly tried to start? Before he was executed in the interrogation room? I’m beginning to see what he saw in you, Graham. You are quite a pretty sight.” The man looks Will up and down with a predatory gaze.

It dawns on Will. “You worked for Chilton?” 

“Pretty and smart, too.” The man nods. “I can’t say I’m not surprised Chilton was the Ripper. Crazy how they had two killers employed at the Baltimore State Hospital. I can’t imagine how many more there may be. Chilton had always wanted to get inside your head, did he not? I’m doing this for him.”

“How did you get my address?” Will asks. He finally makes it to the table where his knife sits. He picks it up slowly, hands behind his back.

“Ah I made a few calls to some of your friends. Doctor Hannibal Lecter was especially accommodating.” 

Will freezes. “Hannibal?” It finally sets in. Hannibal had somehow gotten this man to think of the idea of killing Will. The ‘I’ll keep that in mind,’ wasn’t a lie. Hannibal wants to know what Will would do if someone _did_ become a direct threat to him. 

Will keeps pressing. “So, what? Hannibal somehow planted the idea of killing me in your head? He sent you here to finish what Chilton started? Did he see you kill someone, or what?”

“Nobody sent me, certainly not Hannibal Lecter. He was just the one to tell me where you live. After I kill you, I’m going to kill him too for taking you away from the boss man.”

So maybe Hannibal hadn’t sent him, but he definitely wants to know what Will would do. He saw the opportunity and jumped at it. Will weighs the situation in his mind. On one hand, he could easily disarm the man, tie him up, call the police. On the other hand, he could just as easily disarm him and kill him like Hannibal so clearly wanted. This man is a threat, afterall.

Will lunges forward before the man can make another move, grabs his wrist tight enough to bruise. The knife falls from his grip. 

“You shouldn’t have done that, Mr. Graham.”

“Oh really?” Will slams his head into the man’s nose, and he staggers back. “You don’t know what I’m capable of. You’re a fool for coming here.” 

The man brings a hand to his nose, where blood is freely flowing. He grins menacingly and moves to pick the knife up again, but Will lands a knee to his stomach as he bends down. 

“Seriously. You think Hannibal would give you my address if he wasn’t certain I’d come out the winner?”

“You’re not a killer,” the man shakes his head.

“Aren’t I?” Will asks, cocking his head to one side. He pushes the button on the switchblade handle and the blade pops out. He holds it at his side and stalks towards the man, still hunching over from the blow to his gut. “I’ve killed. You’re familiar with the Minnesota Shrike?” The man nods. “I felt powerful killing him. I’m in a relationship with a serial killer. The Chesapeake Ripper? Not your boss, buddy. He was set up, framed. I helped the real Chesapeake Ripper do it.” Will is circling his prey now. The man is shaking his head, repeating ‘no, no, no,’ and Will grins. “Yes. In a way I’m responsible for all of the deaths he’s caused since I found out, aren’t I? I didn’t want to admit it before, but here I am, and now I’m going to kill you because really, it’s all the same isn’t it?” 

Will can’t believe the words coming from his mouth, but he doesn’t want to stop them. Maybe Hannibal was right, maybe Will knew that all along, and here he was admitting it to someone whose name he doesn’t even know. Someone who could easily be lying, wearing a wire, sent in because of some investigation he’s not aware of. But Will knows better. He doesn’t let himself look for long, not wanting to become too distracted, but he can see right into this man. An orderly under Chilton, someone who has experience with the types of killers he tends to, probably has done time himself. 

“Are you going to tell me your name or am I going to have to search for a wallet?” 

“M-M-Matthew. It’s Matthew,” Matthew stutters. He’s standing up straight again, but Will can see his hands trembling. Will glances down at the knife still down on the floor, an invitation for Matthew to pick it back up. There’s no fun if he doesn’t put up a fight.

Matthew picks it up and takes a breath to calm himself. Will thinks it has more to do with anger over being wrong, than fear. Will thinks Matthew should be scared. There’s no way he’s getting out of this house alive, not with the knowledge he currently possesses about Hannibal and himself. Even if Will does subdue him and calls the police, there would be too much of a risk that Matthew tells them everything. That’s all the threat Will needs and he moves forward quickly, managing to get the knife to Matthew’s neck before the other man can move. He moves it down so it’s pointing right over the man’s heart.

Will thinks of all the times he’s held a blade to Hannibal’s skin, a killer leagues more dangerous than the man currently under his blade. Hannibal said once to stop pulling knives if he didn’t intend on using them. Well, Will is going to use this one. The point of the blade is digging in, starting to draw blood. Will wonders if Matthew is even going to bother fighting back. As he’s thinking it, he feels a hand grasp his wrist. _Good_ , Will thinks. Matthew’s other hand is holding his own knife inches from Will’s stomach. 

“You _want_ me to put up a fight, don’t you? So it can feel like self defense and not murder?” Matthew asks, voice barely above a whisper. They’re close enough that Will can feel the other man’s breath against his face. 

“I want you to put up a fight because I’m bored,” Will shrugs. He backs up away from the knife threatening to disembowel him, but Matthew’s hand still grips his wrist, pulling tighter. Will twists his hand, still clutching the handle of his blade and manages to get a small cut into Matthew’s wrist. Small as it may be, he still yelps in pain and lets Will’s wrist go. 

Will lands a fist to Matthew’s mouth, knuckles tearing against teeth. He ignores his own pain to feel satisfaction about the crack he feels. Matthew attempts to throw himself at Will, but Will steps out of the way at the last second, and Matthew stumbles to the floor, head hitting the corner of a table Will expertly stood in front of. 

As he lays on the floor, clutching his bleeding skull, propped up on one elbow, Will stands over him, looming over the man. Will kicks him in the chest, causing him to fall back against the floor, back of head slamming into the hard tile. Will bends down next to him, puts a knee on his chest to hold him down, and thinks of all the murders he’s had to recreate in his head. He puts the switchblade to the side and wraps both hands around Matthew’s neck. 

As Will squeezes the life out of him, Matthew’s hands try and fail to pull Will’s hands away. After a while, he can’t even hold onto the hands taking his life, and his arms fall limp next to him.

“I told you that you were a fool for showing up here.” Will snarls as Matthew takes his last gasping breath. He stands up and regards the corpse in front of him. “Fuck.” He lets out a shaky laugh. 

He looks at the dogs, who stand in the corner of the room, unsure if they should’ve done more to protect their owner. “Outside, come on.” He ushers them outside into the night and slides down to the ground, back up against the house. He killed someone. With his bare hands. His heart rate raises for the first time all night. Will doesn’t know if he feels guilty about killing someone, or if the guilt is coming from not feeling guilty about the act, but it’s eating away at him now. His hands shake as he calls Hannibal.

“Hello, Will.” Will can hear the smile in Hannibal’s voice. “How are you tonight?”

“Can you come over?”

“It’s Wednesday. And late,” Hannibal reminds him,

“Please.” Will knows he sounds desperate, and he just hopes Hannibal hears it too. 

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Hannibal hangs up, and Will sits there against his house, watching the dogs run around in the yard. Winston comes to sit next to him, Michelangelo following suit. Both dogs lay down on opposite sides of Will, and rest their heads in his lap. He pets them both as a corpse lay in the house behind him. A corpse that he left there himself. He ignores his bleeding hand, can feel bruises forming on his wrist where it was gripped tight. He knows this was hardly self defense. Will sits like that for a long while, unable to move until he sees the Bentley’s headlights coming down his drive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I might be winding this one down soon. Maybe 2-3 more chapters? I have a few more things planned specifically for this one, but honestly I could keep going and write a real part three if I wanted to. Only if there's interest though. I also plan on writing a few scenes from this story from Hannibal's perspective if that's of interest, too. As always, leave comments and kudos! Let me know if you'd be interested in another part to this series!!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied about 2-3 more chapters, sorry! This is the finally chapter for this story, but I'm planning out a part 3 as we speak. Thank you all for reading and leaving comments and kudos!

Hannibal steps out of his car and doesn’t see Will in the dark at first, walking up to the front door, past Will where he sits against the house. Will tries to stand but he feels locked in place. He doesn’t want to revisit the scene inside his house, but he knows he can’t stay here.

“Hannibal,” Will whispers. Hannibal turns his head and moves to kneel in front of Will. 

“What happened, Will?” Hannibal looks at him, the only light coming through the window a few feet away. He lifts Will’s bloody hand in his own and examines it. “Did he show up?” 

Will just nods. He doesn’t have to ask who. They both know.

“Is he dead?”

Will nods again. Hannibal drops his hand to cup Will’s cheeks in both hands. Hannibal’s thumbs wipe away tears Will wasn’t aware had fallen.

“Can you show me?” 

Will takes a deep breath, and can feel his shaking as he does. He really doesn’t want to, but he nods anyways. Hannibal kisses his forehead and then stands. He holds out both hands and Will grips them tight as Hannibal pulls him to his feet. The dogs are sitting at the front door, waiting to be let back inside, and Hannibal nudges them out of the way while he guides Will into the house. 

He doesn’t look at the body on the floor or at Hannibal when he checks the pulse to confirm he’s dead. Will just stares at his feet until Hannibal comes back to him. “You do not need to talk about it right now if you don’t wish to. I can help you with the body if that’s what you want.”

Again, Will just nods. He doesn’t have any words, doesn’t know what he could possibly say. All his life killing has been wrong, all of his direct harm towards others had been defensive moves. This had too, in a sense, but he easily could’ve gone another route, knocked him out without saying a word, then he could have called the police to take him away. No, he made this decision even after weighing his options. This is murder and he knows it. The guilt of the act does start to set in. Will doesn’t know why he thought it wouldn’t, why he thought his powerful feelings would last. He knows he won’t ever really be like Hannibal no matter how hard he tries. 

“I’m afraid there’s too much evidence to dump this body somewhere. I will have to take it home and do some work. Would you like to come with me?” Hannibal stands in front of him, looking at his face. Will looks past him at the wall. “Will?”

Will’s eyes flicker to Hannibal’s. “Can you just…” He trails off and looks away again, feeling stupid to ask for what he wants, what he needs.

“Anything Will. Anything you ask,” Hannibal nods.

“Hold me. Please.” 

Will feels so small when Hannibal’s arms come around him. His own arms are pressed between their chests, hands balled into fists, clutching at Hannibal’s tie. He tucks his head under Hannibal’s chin, and feels soft kisses placed on the top of his head. Hannibal backs them up to one of Will’s arm chairs across the room and sits down, pulling Will into his lap. 

Will buries his face in Hannibal’s chest while he’s held tight. “You gave him my address.”

“Yes. I did.” Hannibal does not deny it. “I had full faith in you coming out alive.”

“I know. And I did, and I don’t know how to feel about it.” 

“You killed him with your bare hands. Tell me, did you feel powerful?” Hannibal prompts.

Will nods against Hannibal’s chest. “I told him Chilton wasn’t really the Ripper. I could see him crumble, it caught him off guard. He almost didn’t fight back after I told him.”

“You feel as though his lack of defense makes killing him worse than if he fought for his life,” Hannibal says. 

“It felt right in the moment, but now I’m not so sure.”

“Let me take care of it from here, my love.” Hannibal rubs a hand up and down Will’s back. “Come home with me tonight, I’ll drive you back home in the morning before your classes. I won’t do anything with the body until tomorrow when you’re no longer in my home.”

Will nods. He can do that. “Okay.” 

Will lets himself be picked up and set to his feet. Hannibal moves through his house, collecting a tarp to wrap the body in, as well as a change of clothes for Will. 

“Go wait in the car. I’ll bring the dogs in when this is clean.”

So Will goes and waits for Hannibal in the car. When Hannibal finally emerges from the house, Matthew’s body thrown over his shoulder like he weighs nothing, Will looks down into his lap at his shaking, bloody hands. Hannibal opens the trunk and Will feels the car shift when the corpse is thrown into it. 

Hannibal goes back in and lets the dogs inside. He comes out a few minutes later, Michelangelo and Winston in tow. 

“You’re letting dogs in your car?” Will asks when Hannibal opens the back door and helps the puppy get in. Winston wedges himself between the two front seats and licks Will’s face. Will rubs his soft head and nudges him back into the back seat. 

“These two were watching over you while you waited for me. I believe they will provide the comfort you desperately need tonight,” Hannibal says when he gets into the driver's seat. “My car can be vacuumed,” he adds.

“I found Winston during the Hobbs case, you know. I went out sleepwalking one night sometime around the Angel Maker case. He followed me all the way, making sure I was okay. He came to me when I needed him most and he’s stuck by me.” 

“A guardian angel of sorts. Dogs are able to read people better than any FBI profiler ever could. Winston saw you, knew you needed a companion and that you were trustworthy and good.”

Will nods in agreement. “He came to me just before I hit my lowest, stayed by my side when I wasn’t even sure what was real, and loves me anyways.”

“You could say the same about myself.” 

Warmth spreads through Will’s chest and he smiles. “I suppose I could.”

After that, silence falls and, no longer distracted by easy conversation, Will gets lost in the thoughts of what he had done. He keeps replaying over and over the last breath the man, _his victim,_ took and he feels the constricting breaths in his own throat. He brings one hand to his throat, attempting to claw at a wrist that isn’t there. 

Hannibal, sensing Will’s discomfort, reaches across the gap between them and grabs onto his hand, giving him a light squeeze. Will tries to relax, taking deep breaths to calm himself down.

“What is it?” Hannibal asks.

“Normally I empathize with the killers, not the victims, but when I am the killer, all I feel is what he felt as I took everything away from him,” Will says. “It’s as if I can feel my own hands around my throat, a knee to my chest, and I’m gasping for air that can’t get to me.”

“Is it a result of your empathy, or are you simply thinking about what may have become of you had you not done it first?”

“I don’t know. I… I don’t think I want to talk about it anymore.” Will looks at his free hand, the bloody one that was sliced open by Matthew’s teeth. “I’m sorry. I’m sure this isn’t what you expected when I asked you to come over.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. I was aware something was very wrong. It is of no difference to me how we share each other’s company, Will.” Hannibal gives his hand another squeeze. 

“No I know that, but… aren’t you. I don’t know. Don’t you wish I could handle killing someone better than I am?” Will is still looking down at his hands. 

“If you were a cold blooded killer after two kills, I would be very impressed, my love. Regardless of how you react, any reaction is perfectly natural,” Hannibal smiles. He lifts their hands and kisses Will’s knuckles. “Do I wish I could share this part of my life with you? Yes, I do. Will I condemn you for being harmed by the way this life treats you? Never.” 

“When did you start?”

“When I was a young man I killed the men who murdered my sister. It was an act of revenge, I couldn’t believe what I had done at first but I moved on quickly. It got easier.”

“Do you know how many people you’ve killed?” Will asks quietly.

The corner of Hannibal’s lips twitch into a smile. “As which killer? I have taken on many monikers.” 

“Total.”

Hannibal doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.” Hannibal keeps his eyes on the road as he continues. “I can remember the name and face of every life I have taken. That does not count the victims of people I have influenced into becoming killers.”

“Do you do this a lot?” Will asks. 

“Not quite like this. I encourage my patients to embrace their natural instincts. Humans are natural killers, and I plant the seeds of the idea in their mind, but they are responsible for that growth.” Hannibal turns down his street. “I have never driven an hour to help someone who has just killed someone and held them afterwards, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

The car pulls into Hannibal’s garage and he quickly closes the garage door again. 

“Stop influencing your patients. That’s going to come back to you eventually no matter how much you think it won’t.”

“I’m very good at what I do, Will,” Hannibal says. He shuts off the car and turns to face Will. Will keeps staring down at his lap. Hannibal brings a hand to Will’s face and turns him to look in his eyes. Hannibal leans forward and places his forehead to Will’s. “Take the dogs in and go draw yourself a bath. I’ll be up in a moment.”

Will closes his eyes and nods. He turns his face slightly to kiss the hand on his cheek, then pulls away to unbuckle his seat belt and get out of the car. The dogs jump out of the car and follow Will into the house. From the mudroom, Will can hear Hannibal open and shut the trunk of his Bentley and keeps walking before Hannibal can bring the body through the door. 

Once upstairs in Hannibal’s room, Will sits down on the edge of the bed and pats the spaces next to him for both Winston and Michelangelo to jump up and lay next to him. He falls back against the mattress, feet still on the ground. Hannibal told him to take a bath, but even that feels like too much of an effort. Exhaustion is setting in, and he’s losing his grip on the situation and on reality. Michelangelo curls up in the space to the left of Will’s head, and Winston lays on Will’s left side and puts his head on Will’s stomach. 

Hannibal comes upstairs a few minutes later and joins them on the bed, laying on the side not occupied by the dogs. He pulls Will the rest of the way onto the bed, puts an arm across Will’s chest, and puts his head in the crook of Will’s neck, placing soft kisses under his ear and on his jaw in an attempt to comfort him. Will just stares at the ceiling, unmoving. He’s not thinking, he’s not feeling, he’s just completely numb. Hannibal and the dogs are the only things keeping him present in the moment, but just barely. 

He doesn’t know how long they all lay there, but eventually Hannibal gets up. Will tries to reach for him, aiming to grab onto anything he can, but Hannibal says, “I’ll be right back, love.” He climbs back onto the bed for a second, kisses Will’s brow and disappears into the bathroom. Will can faintly hear the bath running, but it feels like something is muting all of his senses. He tries to pull himself back to reality, but fails. He barely notices when Hannibal comes back and lifts him off the bed to his feet. 

“Will. Look at me,” Hannibal urges. He’s holding Will by the shoulders. Will brings his eyes back into focus and looks at Hannibal, sees the concern on his face. “You are here. Stay with me, Will.”

“Where else would I go?” Will smiles weakly. He says it, but right after he does his eyes unfocus again and he feels like he’s moving on autopilot while Hannibal guides him to the bathroom. Will lets Hannibal undress him and help him over the edge of the tub. 

Will sinks into the warm water with a sigh. Hannibal sits on a stool outside the clawfoot tub and lifts Will’s still bloody hand. The blood is dry now, bruises have begun to form, deep purples and blues. Will winces when Hannibal begins to clean it, attempts to pull his hand away. Hannibal just holds his hand tighter and presses his lips to Will’s knuckles. 

Will can hear Hannibal’s voice, but can’t hear the words being spoken. He just lets Hannibal clean him with gentle hands. Will comes back to reality again when he feels fingers massaging his scalp. He looks up at Hannibal who’s moved the stool behind Will’s head so he could wash his hair. Hannibal’s eyes meet his and Will can see his pained expression. He lifts a wet hand out of the water to touch Hannibal’s cheek, Hannibal’s face softens and he leans into Will’s touch.

“You’re back,” Hannibal smiles. Will just nods. “What can I do for you, Will? Had I known… I shouldn’t have told him where you live. I didn’t know it would be this bad.” 

Will shakes his head. “I want to be a part of your world. It’s just a difficult adjustment. I just need time to get used to it. You said it gets easier. I believe you.”

Hannibal pours water over Will’s hair to rinse out the suds, then leans forward to leave an upside down kiss on his lips. 

Hannibal is helping Will out of the tub, steady hands holding one elbow until his feet are firmly on the ground. Hannibal lets go to grab a plush towel that he wraps Will in before pulling him into a tight embrace. Hannibal lets him go after a few minutes and brings Will back into the bedroom.

“Thank you for helping me,” Will whispers, head on Hannibal’s chest while they lay together in the dark.

“There is nothing I would not do for you, Will.” 

Will knows he means it, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 is going to include Will truly becoming a killer, and I felt that what I had originally planned for the last few chapters of this would fit better in a third part, rather than this one. It will likely pick up very close to where this one ends, but I think killing Matthew Brown and needing Hannibal's help was a good way to wrap this one up. Give me a day or two before Ch 1 of part 3 is up. Thanks again for reading!


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